


Cerulean Hours (and what it takes to paint them cyan)

by icterine



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-09
Updated: 2011-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icterine/pseuds/icterine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kame needs more colours in his life, not only cerulean. It's a good thing he comes to know a painter to show him how it's done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cerulean Hours (and what it takes to paint them cyan)

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** The Cerulean Hours (and what it takes to paint them cyan)  
>  **Beta:** Isa [pinkeuphoria1 on Livejournal]  
>  **Pairing:** Jin/Kame, Kame/OC, mild Kame/Yamapi  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Genre:** AU, Angst, Romance  
>  **Disclaimer:** If a character has a name you can’t quickly recognize, it’s probably one of my minor character OCs. Other than that, the characters are not mine.  
>  **Wordcount:** 33,500

He likes his walls cerulean as they stand tall around him, lulling him in with whispers of the sea, vowing protection with the voices of lost spirits. The shades of blue colour his vision as he caresses the cheap and rough material of the wall with the tender skin of his palms, bare feet dragging across the rugged carpet as he follows the calls penetrating his ears. Against the simple blue he sees a hue of vibrant orange, _bonfires_ , that flame and swallow the emptiness with their lazy swirls, emitting sparkles all around.

“I know you,” he whispers and allows himself to smile a little as he presses his forehead against the chilly material, slowly sliding down against the wall. There’s a silent and hollow _thump_ as his knobbly knees hit the floor. Amidst the voices whispering, lulling, singing, _telling_ , he can hear the sound of his own breathing, heavy and raspy but certain.

He lies down on the carpet. Once it was fluffy, but that isn’t the case anymore. Now it feels rough under him and the material prickles at the exposed skin of his lower back and neck. He ignores the unpleasant sensation though, and lets his eyelids slide shut – the floor is moving under him in waves and cold sweat forms on his skin. The shivers racking his body are intense, but somehow it’s all good.

It’s _pure creation_.

And, because of that, he lets it come to him. Fingers hesitantly join his, a mere weakened breeze as they slip through the hollows in-between Kame’s own. They curl and grip his hands firmly, asking.

“ _Yes_ ,” he nods and whispers, jaw moving ever so slightly and his voice a slurred mumble. His tongue is swelling inside his mouth, and his entire body feels used and worn. However, something seems to regenerate – a familiar wave of _energy_ about to push him on his feet, give him strength for yet another day. It tingles under his skin in an arousing way, setting his body on fire despite the coldness.

An hour or so later his eyes crack open. The room is still free of other human beings apart from himself, and as he sits up the cerulean walls still surround him, locking him inside his apartment like a lone white seabird convicted to live artificial freedom.

He hops on his feet and wipes his damp forehead with the grey hem of his t-shirt. He slouches to the small fridge he has in the kitchen area of his one-room apartment, pulls the door open and picks up a bottle of fresh water. Without bothering with a glass, he uncaps the bottle and sits on the counter while sipping the cool liquid and trying to calm his body down.

The rest of the unholy hours he should be reserving for something significantly important like sleep, he spends sitting beside the window with piles of empty sheets and ballpoint pens. The morning slowly but surely starts creeping in through the blinds, but as the golden rays shower his form, Kame still remains seated, inking the words refusing to be left unwritten on the papers, one after another.

The only times he leaves his spot for the following three days is when he fetches himself another water bottle or goes to relieve himself. No sleep, no food, no rest to his bloodshot eyes. His vision eventually blurs and a headache throbs at the back of his skull, strong and insistent.

Nothing makes him stop before the story is finished, though.

Only then does he collect the papers in order and file them neatly. He slouches to his thin futon and crashes down, passing out before his head even hits the pillow.

After 20 hours he wakes up to the loud protest coming from his stomach and the nauseating sensation of dehydration. He eats an entire loaf of bread and empties a bottle of green tea that had been sitting in his fridge before he gives his manager a call.

Then it’s done, aside from a doctor’s appointment for a stress injury in his wrist.

\--

“Piña Colada, please,” Kame politely orders his drink from the barista. She gives him an acknowledging smile and Kame turns around, leaning against the counter as he takes in the sight of people enjoying an abnormally hot summer day on the beach. The sand clings to his skin from where it had stuck after a lazy walk in the salty water.

A man hops on a bar stool next to him. For a moment Kame feels drawn back, but then he realises that the bar is actually quite busy (probably because of the heat – must be good for business) and there aren’t really many stools to choose from. Besides, the man isn’t even looking at him. He waves his hand to the blonde barista with a silly smile and the woman walks over with a delightfully surprised smile.

Kame steals a glance, unable to resist his curious nature. The man has broad shoulders and a good, natural tan on his skin. His longish wet hair is a mess and clings to his skin, curling slightly. There’s a camera hanging on a leash around his neck – not just some silly tourist purchase either, but an actual proper camera with a long objective and an add-on flash system. Kame’s eyes linger on the small heart-shaped birthmark on the man’s shoulder and he can barely hold back an amused chuckle. And that’s it.

The barista barely gives Kame a look longer than a second as she puts his drink down in front of him, greeting the man on the stool with a chirpy voice. Kame pays for his order and thanks her politely anyway, taking a sip and feeling the taste of rum and pine apple spreading on his tongue. It’s a good drink.

He slouches away without looking back, leaving the barista and the man chatting away in the shade of the bar. Koki calls him over with a jump and a big wave of his muscled arm and Kame grins, making his way through the sunbathers and running children. Koki throws a stick to his dog, Sakura, and watches it run into the sea to fetch it. Kame knows his car will smell like wet dog fur for weeks after this trip.

When Sakura runs back and bounces at him, Kame squeals and does his best to protect his drink. Still, the impact of the collision sends some of the cocktail splashing over his chest. Koki wails as he runs over, trying to grab his dog to calm her down. Kame just laughs and ruffles his hair.

“Well damn!” he laughs and takes a long gulp from his drink before extending his hand towards his friend. “Hold this for me, will you?”

“You do know I’ll drink it, right?” Koki questions him with a sheepish smile. Kame purses his lips but gives the drink to his friend anyway, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

“If you drink it, you’ll be taking the glass back to the bar!”

He beckons Sakura to join him as he makes a run to the water past the crowd. The dog barks before it jumps into the water behind him, splashing water around before it starts swimming. Kame finally takes a dive too, figuring it’s better to be soaked with sea water than a sticky Piña Colada. After his dive, he returns to the shore where the water isn’t as deep so that the small dog can play around him more freely.

Kame considers returning to where he and Koki have made a temporary camp, but dismisses the idea as soon as he sees Koki chatting up some unnaturally busty girl on their towels. Sakura barks at his feet and he throws a stick with his better and un-bandaged hand for her, racing the small dog towards it.

That is, before he collides with someone who pretty much appears out of nowhere on his track. There’s a short moment during which Kame feels hopeful and relieved – they’re not going to fall, not really. But then he feels his balance failing him and they both crash down in the chilly water. The man’s arms flail helplessly mid-fall and he makes a sound, “ _unf_ ”, as the air leaves his lungs.

A wave runs over Kame’s body as he tries to figure out which way is up and which down. Eventually he figures that he’s somehow awkwardly sprawled on top of a man who’s ogling at him with wide eyes. There’s something familiar about him, but Kame isn’t quite able to put his finger on it.

“Oh damn damn damn my camera!” the man suddenly wails and Kame jumps up. The man manages to stumble on his feet as well. Sakura returns with the stick in her mouth and distracts Kame by jumping at his feet happily. Kame picks her up in his arms and makes his way closer to the man hesitantly. He seems to be in agony.

It’s then that he identifies him. The man from the bar.

“Oh thank god,” the man finally lets out an exhale he had been keeping. He looks up and his cheeks burn as he tries to crack Kame a smile. “Still works, can you believe it? I’ll just have to clean up the lens and it should be fine. No worries!”

“Um. …Good,” Kame gulps awkwardly. Sakura drops the stick and swags her tail, eager to return back to the ground. The man takes a few steps closer and ruffles the dog behind her ear. He feels a bit intimidating at the close proximity.

“Oh. Um,” the man coughs and takes a few steps back again. He seems a bit out of place standing there. His looks are definitely Japanese and his accent is well in place too, but there’s something odd about his mannerism – there’s a certain kind of openness in him that most people in the country don’t really have.

Kame lets Sakura back on the ground and throws the stick for her, not running after it this time. He still keeps an eye on the dog as it sprints through the crowd of playing children and a yelling mother making her way to the water.

“Are you sure the camera is okay? I can pay for any damage,” Kame offers, still feeling a bit hesitant – it _had_ been quite a hit, and cameras weren’t often build to deal with water. “This was my fault.”

“No no no! It’s fine, really!” the man insists. He opens his mouth to say more but a loud yell of “ _Jin!_ ” coming from the background distracts him. He turns around and waves his hand at a group of people, making their way closer to the beach line from the bar with beer bottles clinging in their hands.

Sakura comes back too, her tail whisking water around. Kame smiles at the sight and lowers himself to his knees. The man turns his gaze back to him and Kame looks up, ruffling Sakura for a good fetch.

“Go,” Kame encourages him and stands up back on his feet again, smiling at the stranger. The man bites his lip and nods after a moment of hesitation. Then life goes on and he turns around to jog towards his friends, some looking foreign.

It’s a strange feeling he has as he stares at the man’s back on his way back towards Koki’s and his spot on the beach. He assumes it’s a bit of a casual crush, but doesn’t feel too bothered about it. The chances of the man returning any sort of sexual feelings towards him are low, and the issue isn’t pressing anyway. He’s just another eye candy on the beach.

\--

He thanks god the slim suit he had chosen for the occasion is black as the heavy February rain outside violates the fabric. He figures the most important thing is to keep his hair intact – there’s only so much you can do to fix a ruined hairstyle in public restrooms in the middle of an art exhibition. Besides, he’s pretty sure Ueda isn’t going to let him disappear halfway through. As a friend, he’s entitled to stand around with a glass of champagne in his hand, smile and make small talk with other artists and whatnots.

He hands over his clear and wet umbrella to the awfully polite receptionist before making his way up the stairs to the gallery. The double doors are drawn open invitingly and he shakes a few hands with people whose faces look familiar as he makes his way towards his friend.

“Kame,” the man greets with a cheerful smile and pulls him in a hug. Some people stare – Ueda doesn’t really give off the aura of a man you’d like to hug unless you want your teeth punched in. They grin at each other and Kame glances around, familiar with his friend’s cartoonish style.

“More mice?” he jokes as he makes his way towards a rather large canvas with thick and strong colours. A lot of blood and teeth and a slightly psychotic touch – Ueda’s always been best at relieving himself from strong emotions through arts. “Owww, cute.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Ueda laughs as he stands beside him and crosses his arms. “Not really what I usually appreciate to hear when it comes to my art, but you’re not into the business anyway. So from a friend, I guess that’s a compliment.”

“Ueda-san,” a grey-haired man interrupts them – the gallery’s owner, Kame recalls and greets him with a wide smile and a handshake. “Ah, Kamenashi-san, I’m glad to see you again. So, Ueda, could I steal you for a moment? I’ve got some French art collectors who seem to be quite fond of your… extravagant style.”

Kame laughs and pats his friends back, encouraging him to go and socialize like a good artist should. He feels a bit out of place among the elites and stumbles in conversations related to art. He’s used to all of it already though, so he does what he knows works the best – he hops from one chattering group to another, admits that he honestly doesn’t know a damn thing about art but still does his best to participate in the conversation.

Eventually, he gets a bit tired of it. Unable to locate his friend in the quite large gallery packed with probably a few hundred people at least, he resorts to sipping at his quickly draining drink and wandering around the gallery, looking at the works. He does appreciate the beauty of art, and even the seemingly ugly works fascinate him to an extent – it’s just that it’s really not his thing.

He enters an exhibition consisting of paintings and smiles fondly as he examines the works with occasionally bright and lively colours, occasionally dark and dull to the point of depressing. The contrast they make with the simple creamy white wall behind them really seems to bring out their atmosphere, he thinks to himself, and afterward curses himself in his head for starting to think like some boring art critic himself. He hears some artists criticising the works behind his back but tunes them out. He’s here for pleasure, not business.

He freezes in front of one painting though. People walk past him as he dumbly examines a painting of himself and Sakura playing in the water. The people around them blur into faceless silhouettes and the water that splashes around almost at the height of his knees is cyan to the point where it makes Kame’s eyes hurt a bit.

He feels a bit taken aback by the sudden intrusion to his life and looks around frantically to see if anyone has recognized him but no – the art elites seem to be too interested in the paintings to pay attention to the other guests at the opening party, never mind actually recognizing someone who had been just a painted form barely fifteen centimetres long on a canvas of never-ending blue.

He turns back to the painting and examines the golden nameplate underneath with a lump in his throat. Who the fuck.

  
_“Untitled”  
Akanishi Jin  
2009.8.10_   


Kame scratches his neck, unable to recall ever hearing about anyone named Akanishi. He’s been around in quite a few opening parties through the years, yet the name means absolutely nothing to him. Must be some rising artist then.

He wonders if the painting will one day hang on some rich person’s living room wall. If someone will peer at his face and children will coo over Sakura. Stupid things like that. He decides he doesn’t quite like being the subject of someone’s paintings.

“Ah, it’s you,” a surprised voice chokes behind him and Kame turns around, eyebrows disappearing behind the cover of his fringe. A sort of familiar-looking man with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway to his chest stares at him stupidly with a drink in one hand and soon offers his other hand at him. Kame shakes it a bit hesitantly, bowing his head.

“You were..?”

“Akanishi Jin. You know. I mean, you don’t know,” the man shakes his head to clear his thoughts and smiles at him widely. “The man you ran into at the beach?”

“You,” Kame finally remembers and ogles at him for a second before chuckling nervously. “I mean, I’m glad to meet you, Akanishi-san” he corrects himself and bows politely a bit deeper. “I didn’t know you’re an artist.”

“Do you like it?” Akanishi asks him and smiles widely as he steps before the painting as well, looking at it with a proud look in his eyes. Kame licks his lips nervously and tilts his head slightly, as if examining it.

“I… don’t really know,” he admits. “I guess it’s beautiful. Perhaps a little too bright for my eyes.”

“People tend to say that,” Akanishi nods understandingly and turns his head to him again, still smiling widely. “I like it, though. Don’t you feel happy when you see bright colours?”

“I guess,” Kame agrees with him and empties his glass of champagne. “But that’s bright enough to give me a headache.”

“Ouch,” Akanishi grimaces and takes his glass from him. “I’ll take this away for you. But please, enjoy. If the headache gets too bad, go and enjoy some dark and sully works then. I’m sure I saw a vampire mouse somewhere.”

“That’d be my friend’s probably,” Kame laughs. Akanishi waves his hand at him as he starts walking away. Kame looks after him before turning his eyes back to the painting.

“Hey, you,” the voice suddenly calls out to him again, reappearing from behind the corner, two empty glasses still in his hands. “Could I get your name? For the title. I almost named it ‘ _Dog_ ’ just to piss people off for being un-artistic, but it sounds a little _too_ lame.”

The man doesn’t even ask him if he _wants_ to have his name displayed for the world to see. Kame grimaces a bit and bites his lip. It’s a bit difficult to say no way when you aren’t given an option.

“Is it something embarrassing?” Akanishi prompts him, humour lacing his voice. The problem is that he’s standing pretty much on the opposite side of the wide room, and people are starting to stare at them and whisper. The man really has no manners. “It’s not like I’m _actually_ going to use your name, you won’t get any stalkers. Just for inspiration, you know.”

Kame sighs out of relief and walks over with his cheeks burning out of sheer embarrassment. He takes the glasses from Akanishi’s hands and smiles at him a bit stiffly.

“Kamenashi Kazuya,” he says quietly, feeling uneasy about the people still watching them. He does like being the centre of attention in a good way – bad way, not so much. “I’ll take care of these. Have a good evening, and congratulations for the exhibition.”

“Thanks,” the man croaks after him, and Kame looks back enough to give him an apologetic smile. He delivers the glasses to a wandering waiter and decides to escape to the other end of the exhibition to keep from getting associated to Akanishi through his painting or anything really.

He regrets his decision when facing modern and contemporary art he can make absolutely no sense out of. He isn’t really good at enjoying something he doesn’t understand, especially if it doesn’t fascinate him. After gazing at a ball made of fake nails for five minutes without getting its point he feels more uneasy and disgusted than appreciative.

It’s already past midnight and Kame’s feeling more than a bit tipsy as he walks into the men’s restroom. He relieves himself before washing his hands and trying to fix his hair. He hears the door open but doesn’t remove his eyes from his reflection.

“Chyeaaaa,” someone greets him and Kame glances at the direction of the voice. Akanishi nods at him slightly awkwardly. Soon enough he’s smiling again though. The expression seems a bit tense and makes Kame lick his lips as the man makes his way over, leaning against the sink. Kame assumes he just genuinely isn’t aware of the awkwardness his behaviour arises.

“I think I’ll name it ‘ _Kame_ ’. Is that okay for you?” the man teases him with a goofy smirk. Kame gulps.

“Actually, that’s my nickname.”

“And I might’ve been talking to that friend of yours. The one with all the mice,” Akanishi waves his hand and giggles. He actually _giggles_ and blushes bright red on the spot. The awkwardness intensifies and Kame gulps again, hoping for someone to walk in but, against all the odds, the restroom seems to be abandoned.

Akanishi steals a look at Kame’s lips. The sound of their breaths echoes a bit, making the slight change to heavier easily detectable. Kame licks his lips and dares to look at Akanishi’s as well – he has to admit that he really _is_ a bit more than tipsy and Akanishi isn’t really bad at all when it comes to looks.

More than looks? Oh well. He also has to admit that the man isn’t exactly his type with all the weird and pushy greetings, nervousness and just… yeah, whatever. He’s a bit too much on the weird side, and they don’t seem to have that much in common.

Akanishi just starts leaning in when Kame backs away from the sink and leaves him stumbling to regain his posture and dignity. His face is dumbfounded and red, as he struggles to digest what had just happened. Kame grimaces at the man apologetically and waves his hand.

“Kame’s fine. For the painting. I might see you around.”

“Yeah, see you –”

He doesn’t hear the rest of Akanishi’s sentence as the door closes behind him.

They don’t really talk to each other after that in the party. A few times before Kame leaves he catches him staring sadly in his direction, but when Kame raises his look the man’s always quick to turn away and pretend like he hadn’t been dozing off and stalking him like some rejected teenager.

He’s a bit taken aback by the sudden admiration, but doesn’t feel like pursuing a one-time thing at the moment. Because of that, he lets it be. When he returns to his one-room apartment, he’s still lonely and alone in his solitary environment, surrounded by simple cerulean walls, barely any furniture and boxes stacked with folders containing the raw versions of his books.

No need for regrets at all. The walls are pulsing around him and Kame feels his own fingers faintly caressing his non-drumming chest as he strips himself of his suit jacket and lets it slide into a pile on the floor. He gulps and feels his fingers shaking.

“God no, not now,” he whimpers weakly, wishing to just go to bed and get a rest after a long day. “Don’t talk to me now. I’m not lonely.”

The cerulean stares at him and Kame admits defeat by slowly approaching it, letting himself be pulled in. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and lets it fall off his shoulders, pooling around his feet like the foam of the waves. He looks up and presses his palm against the blue, sinks it inside the arms frantically grasping for it and feels his ears exploding with the sudden voices coming forth from the wall.

\--

Two days later he wakes up from a hospital bed. There’s an IV attached to his arm and someone sleeping on the bed beside his, but other than that the room is empty. Just white and curtains and a window where he can see the night-sky in its duke blue glory. He doesn’t see any stars.

His writing wrist is tightly cradled and he remembers the unfinished story. It makes him shake and panic but he knows that he won’t be able to write it anymore – it’s over for it now. He’s let the voices down and now the whispers will remain as an incomplete stack of papers in its folder. It’s a story that’ll never be told, a story that’ll never get a chance.

He starts crying, exhaustion creeping in again. He examines the bandage with his shaky fingers and tries to keep his tired sobs quiet to allow his unfortunate roommate to sleep. The more he awakens the more he realises that _fuck he’s in pain_ and his stupid profession is one day going to rob him of his life.

The next morning the doctor insists he stay in the hospital for a few more days. They also set up a psychological evaluation of his poor state and Kame curses as he truthfully tells the psychiatrist that no, he isn’t suicidal or anything stupid like that and _no_ , nothing significantly stressing or unfortunate has happened in his life recently because the problem really is that when he gets a story in his head he has to write it and things like sleep, food and water feel somehow really insignificant in comparison to the book and, well, sometimes it just happens to take days. That’s it. Nothing more.

He’d rather have it some other way too. There’s only a sickening feeling of morbid pleasure as he feels his thoughts clouding hour after hour of obsessive writing.

They let him off the hook, but insist he gets a computer for the writer. Kame promises that he will.

He won’t. Writing doesn’t work like that.

\--

The guy he’s forced to share a room with is actually a pretty refreshing company. Kame’s the kind of person who gets bored easily, and it isn’t like his friends have free schedules over the clock to visit him, so he finds himself making friends with the man relatively easy. His name is Yamashita Tomohisa, although he lets Kame call him Yamapi for some strange reason concerning pink costumes. Kame doesn’t really manage to make out a clear and coherent story because Yamapi is wheezing and laughing madly when he tries to tell it. He’s hospitalized for a hip surgery. Kame thinks he said something about hip rolling when he tried to tell that story, but unlike in the case of his name, his words slurred together in embarrassment and his voice was too muffled to reach his bed.

The second night they spend feeling rebellious and adventurous. Kame’s off the IV now so he crawls to Yamapi’s bed. They cuddle and laugh quietly and Kame even blows him in the darkness, just because he can and Yamapi is like molten wax underneath him. It’s a good brief hospital romance. Sparks up his interest a little bit, and he hasn’t really gotten laid in a while. Being gay has its downsides, especially if your publishing agent is out to get you if you get in too big trouble with some gay scandal.

Things get a bit awkward when Yamapi’s friend visits him the next day, just because he just miraculously happens to be Akanishi Jin who keeps looking from Yamapi to him with a confused and betrayed expression on his face. They haven’t really told him about the exact nature of their companionship but somehow Kame feels pretty certain that Akanishi figures it out on his own because he’s really snappy and bratty towards his friend and ignores Kame completely. Eventually the two friends’ conversation turns into a literary fight fest where they scribble on endless sheets of paper and shove them angrily at each other’s faces before Akanishi eventually storms off, cheeks blotchy and lips tightly pressed together.

“I guess you two know each other,” Yamapi mumbles with a strained voice after his friend is gone. He isn’t looking at Kame – instead, he’s staring at the open door to the corridor where nurses and doctors walk and talk about things Kame doesn’t understand or care about.

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“So. Um,” Yamapi finally tries to gather himself as he turns around to face him again, grinning a bit sheepishly. It looks kind of stupid on his face. Maybe it’s the eyes. “Why me but… not him?”

“I think it’s your man boobs,” Kame says with a serious voice. He doesn’t break eye contact. “He just doesn’t have them.”

For a moment Yamapi looks horrified but then they both break into howling laughter. The atmosphere becomes a bit lighter again.

“No, but really,” Kame says seriously again when they stop laughing. Yamapi frowns.

They don’t really fool around intimately after that. Friendship, though… that kind of lasts.

\--

Yamapi asks him out for karaoke with some friends a few weeks after their release from the hospital. Kame decides that he should do something besides moaning after the dead story still scattered all around his desk and get some fresh air so he promises to come, planning to drag Koki with him. Koki’s brilliant with karaoke – once someone actually manages to get him to sing from all the rapping and roaring he does, he’s really got a voice of gold.

Koki strands him an hour before he’s supposed to leave. He calls him to wail something about women, women and women and his relationship issues and poor broken heart and says he’ll try to talk it out with Yukari-chan. Kame doesn’t really want to be a burden or anything so he promises they’ll go some other time.

After a while of thinking and staring at the gloomy cerulean walls, he grabs his jacket and his wallet and decides to go anyway. Yamapi will be there and he isn’t that bad with new people. It can be potentially refreshing.

He arrives to the dim karaoke bar with neon lighting. Yamapi is waiting for him at the counter and Kame walks over to him as he beckons him with a wave of his hand. They greet with an awkward hug before Yamapi flashes him a toothy smile and drags him into the elevator.

“We’ve got a private booth,” he explains enthusiastically as he beams at Kame. “I already got you a beer. Had to pay for the first round and you’re kind of late!”

Just by ten minutes, Kame insists embarrassedly. He shouldn’t have underestimated the traffic.

The elevator doors open and Yamapi pulls him into the noisy booth by his wrist. There are more people stuffed in than Kame had originally expected – he had been expecting maybe three to five people or so, but a good ten people are sitting on each other’s laps, swaying to the music and cheering a nervous big-nosed man on with his heartfelt ballad. Kame immediately takes a liking to his voice.

“Everyone, meet Kame! Kame, meet everyone!” Yamapi announces loudly. There’s an ear-wrecking applause and some whistling and Kame feels too awkward to open his mouth and mumble about feeling more at ease with his family name. He assumes the group’s ties are intimate, and some _do_ look foreign so perhaps nicknames are a norm for them.

Someone shoves a tall glass of beer in his hand and a dark-skinned guy who’s apparently named Dominic taps his lap to invite him over. Kame assumes he isn’t Japanese as he hesitantly makes his way over and takes the invitation just because there really are no other seats left – his only other alternative would be on a redheaded girl’s lap, and there’s something awkward about sitting on a girl or mumbling with broken English to get her to move and let him sit under.

Dominic asks him about his singing preferences (“ballads mostly, or anything that has a catchy atmosphere in it”) and sings a few lines from the recently released new Arashi song with his heavy accent. Kame laughs at him, finding himself enjoying the company even with the language barrier.

When the noisy brat from his right makes a dash for the microphone Kame chugs at his beer and – notices the man awkwardly pressed tight against the cushions, looking as if he’d be wishing to just fall through the solid material and disappear somewhere else. He blinks.

“…Hi,” Akanishi greets him and offers his hand for a handshake. “Jin. In case you don’t remember.”

Of course. Kame throws a glance across the room at Yamapi who claps his hands together and bows his neck in apology. Ah. This had so been a set up.

“I’m here because of you, am I not?” Kame asks, switching from his nasal English to snappy Japanese. “You made him invite me.”

“I did ask him to make you bring a friend…” Akanishi mumbles and scratches his nose awkwardly. Dominic looks confused – Kame assumes he understands only fractions of the language, and their muffled tones aren’t really helping him.

He apologizes and rises to his feet. Akanishi jumps up immediately as well and takes his wrist. Kame yanks it away and the guy singing who sounds already a bit tipsy laughs to the mic something about bickering lovebirds and points at them. Kame licks his lips nervously as people’s eyes turn to them.

“Restroom,” he mumbles with his broken English and bows slightly before he turns his eyes back to Jin and walks away slowly. To his dismay, though, Jin follows him with a few second delay.

“Kame –”

“Don’t control me,” Kame snaps at him immediately and turns around on his heels. Akanishi freezes to the spot, looking like Kame would’ve just slapped him across his face. “You’re trying to make me do whatever you want me to. I don’t like that.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way?” Jin answers, his eyes thoughtfully narrowing. “I didn’t _force_ you to come, you know.”

“No. It’s just everything you do,” Kame grumbles in frustration, trying to come up with the right words to explain his point. “You act like a jealous and possessive boyfriend even though we don’t even know each other. You’re like a stalker. It’s creepy and I don’t like that.”

It seems to take Jin aback. “I’m not like that!”

“Yes you are,” Kame sighs, feeling awfully tired all of sudden. “Look. Just… don’t do it, okay? I really hate it.”

Jin nods ashamedly and looks down at his feet. He sniffles a bit childishly and bites his lip. It almost makes Kame feel bad for his harsh words, but he knows they’re necessary unless he wants to get in deep trouble later on.

The man opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. He isn’t looking Kame in the eyes anymore. Kame bites his lip and walks over to him, taps him comfortingly on his shoulder and carries on, leaving him standing in the corridor as he slips back in the booth.

Whatever feelings the man has, he doesn’t return them. Sometimes, sadly, it really is as simple as that.

\--

He wakes up having a panic attack. It makes him suddenly sit up straight, yanking most of the covers with him and leaving his naked bed partner groaning and cursing sleepily as he wheezes, clutching his chest and breaking into pitiful sobs that echo in the room.

“What the fuck?” the man snarls and throws and arm around him, pulling him against his warm side. It’s then that Kame detects the familiar chills. He tries to gasp for air but his chest feels like it’s about to crumble into burned pieces of glass shard and it’s all a bit too painful and terrifying. He hates feeling like that.

“Hey, shut up.” The man doesn’t even remember his name. Typical, and maybe even for the best. He feels dizzy as the man shakes him and checks his forehead with the back of his hand, only because he’s required to in case he’s having some serious medical issue. “You’re sweating. Where does it hurt?”

Now that they’re not fucking, the man actually makes Kame sick to his gut. He forces his violently trembling body down, ignoring Kame’s struggle – it’s more difficult to breathe when lying down. His limbs tingle and feel weak as he tries to tell the man off through his gasps. He isn’t really succeeding, and the attempt makes the pain increase. Not to mention the failure just makes him panic more, because he’s actually really helpless against the naked silhouette of the man whose face he doesn’t remember anymore and can’t see from the shadows of the room.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you,” the man finally scoffs and pushes the sheets off them before getting on his feet and stepping over Kame who curls into a ball. Kame sees him slipping his boxers on and closes his eyes, trying to get back control on the situation.

The man leaves the apartment, leaving him just lying there on his thin futon, surrounded by the sadly cerulean walls that don’t even look cerulean in the black-and-white darkness. Eventually Kame’s breathing stabilizes and the pain lessens. He feels sore and exhausted as he staggers to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water from the fridge. He sits on the floor drinking, his back against the cool surface. He doesn’t really think.

He pulls on his aureolin trousers and a white t-shirt, feeling too restless to sleep anymore. The musky scent of his bed visitor floods his nostrils and he grimaces, thinking back to what an ass he had been before he had left. He sprays his bed with air freshener but eventually decides to just groan and throw his hat, boots and jacket on before making his way out in the cold. The sounds of nightlife greet him.

The nearby bar has its lights invitingly on. Kame steps in, feeling himself eventually calming down a bit, combs his ruffled hair with his fingers and slouches to the bar counter.

“Coffee, white, no sugar” he orders with a worn smile. There are still quite a few people dancing. A poster plastered on the wall informs him that five hours prior there had been a live performance of some band he doesn’t recognize, but now they’re just playing whatever happens to come out of the radio. It’s a relaxed atmosphere, and not too many customers are still lingering around before the closing time.

“…Can I come and sit here?” a familiar voice asks and Kame looks up just as the coffee is delivered. Akanishi hovers behind him, looking unsure of himself. Kame thanks the barista and pays for his order. Akanishi takes it as a cue to sit on the stool beside his. He looks worried.

“You look ruffled,” he mumbles and motions to Kame’s hair. Yeah, it probably does after all the tugging. “Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

He could ask the same thing, he thinks as he chuckles and blows gently at the brown liquid in his cup deliberately. What he says is “I’m looking for you,” with a serious tone that seems to startle the man beside him quite a lot.

“Why here?”

Kame snorts as he sets the cup down. Akanishi is naïve to the point of amusing, he figures as he draws lazy circles in the mahogany counter with his finger. Akanishi is staring at him confusedly, his eyebrows knitted together in a way that makes him look a few years younger than what he probably is.

“Joking,” Kame tries to chuckle. His hands shake as he takes a sip of his coffee. It burns his tongue and he grimaces, setting it down quickly again. The dark liquid swirls in the cup and soon a hand rests on his wrists, making him snap his eyes back to the worried man.

“Are you alright?” Jin asks him with a serious voice. He makes talking to him slightly tempting and Kame weighs his options briefly – he can brush the man off, most likely unsuccessfully, leave the bar or actually talk with him.

“Rough night,” he finally decides to answer with a thoughtful nod. Akanishi slowly laces their fingers – Kame isn’t sure if he’s conscious about the movement or not, but there’s something electrifying about it. Maybe it’s because it reminds him of the spirits in his room, the sea-people of his subconscious. That just reminds him about the dead story still scattered over his table and floorings, dead on the crisp white papers gathering dust. “I came here to calm down a bit. Can’t sleep.”

“Coffee won’t help,” Akanishi notes and takes the cup from him. He calls the barista over, flashes her a flirty grin and asks her to dispose the coffee. He orders them both warm milk off the menu and squeezes Kame’s fingers nervously as she walks away. “I come here a lot. It’s near my condo so.”

“How’s your arts?” Kame asks him to provoke a conversation that hopefully doesn’t include him. “Are you planning a new exhibition?”

“Still working on the concept,” Akanishi admits and nervously fiddles his fingers holding Kame’s hand. It makes him feel a bit conscious, but he figures it isn’t so bad. It feels good to have someone holding on to him, even if it is someone who’s pretty much a stranger. “I’ve gotten curious about living models.”

“Living,” Kame nods. “As in someone posing?”

“Yeah, I’ve done a few nudes,” Akanishi nods. Kame’s the sort of person who would normally giggle and tease about it, but something about Akanishi’s professional attitude towards nudism keeps him silent. He isn’t able to hold back a small smirk, though. “It doesn’t feel quite right yet, though. But I’m still curious about it. I’ll just see if my ideas develop.”

Their milk glasses arrive and Kame thanks the barista with a weary bow. Akanishi laughs and removes his hand from Kame’s to pat his back. He takes his glass into his hand, smirks at him and raises it ceremoniously. Kame bites the inside of his cheek as he grabs his own glass, chimes a soft “Kampai”, with Akanishi and takes a gulp.

It is soothing. His muscles slowly relax as they chitchat for a good twenty minutes, sipping their drinks. Afterwards he just feels drowsy and exhausted, but still too anxious to sleep. He figures he’ll just go home and brew a pot of coffee to keep him running for another day.

Akanishi drapes his arm around Kame’s shoulders and pulls him on his feet. Kame staggers towards the door as he pulls him. The air is crisp and chilly – a typical early winter temperature at Tokyo. Kame curses at himself for not realising to take a scarf with him, but Akanishi doesn’t really seem to be dressed any better so he figures he’ll survive. It’s not a long way anyway.

“Will you sleep?” Akanishi asks him with a somewhat raspy and silent voice. His longish hair makes a soft curve at the tip and Kame feels a few strands tickle his cheek and neck in the soft breeze. He shrugs nonchalantly and looks up at the tall streetlamps illuminating above them. The city pollution blocks the view of the stars.

“You look exhausted. You should.”

 

“I don’t feel calm,” Kame truthfully admits and sighs. He gives Akanishi an apologetic smile. “So… I just can’t.”

“I can help you,” he offers. Kame snorts and shakes his head amusedly. He has to admit that Akanishi’s pretty smooth if it’s his way of crawling in his bed to screw his brains out.

“I’ve already had enough sex for one night, so I think I’ll pass,” he chuckles to the man’s dumbfounded face. Akanishi’s lips press together as he hooks their arms and gulps, trying to keep calm. He still does look quite a bit jealous and displeased.

“I wasn’t really implying sex,” he admits and sniffs anxiously. He even shrugs, probably just because he’s feeling nervous and still sort of angry at Kame just bluntly admitting to having bedded someone right next to his admirer who obviously had spent half an hour on making moves on him. “Just helping you sleep. Because you look like you’d need it.”

Against his better judgement, Kame brings the man home. Akanishi looks around the small room curiously but doesn’t dare to touch anything. Kame strips himself of his trousers but decides to leave his shirt on. Akanishi follows his example, cheeks a bit heated as he tries to avoid looking at his bare legs. It’s pretty amusing.

“I should probably change the covers.”

“Too much effort. Let’s just sleep,” Akanishi insists and slouches to the futon laid on the floor. Kame’s pretty sure it still smells like sex and semen, but the man doesn’t seem to mind as he pats the free space beside him. His dark hair is scattered over the white pillow. He does look a bit tantalizing.

Kame sighs and crawls in as well, feeling a bit uneasy about the whole situation. Jin’s knees press against the back of his thighs as he lies on his side. The man drapes an arm around him and pulls him against his chest, sharing body heat. He uses his free hand to softly thread his fingers through Kame’s hair.

There’s something oddly intimate in it that he doesn’t remember doing in years. Akanishi’s breathing is soft and constant, and his body heat keeps him cosy under the covers. He feels his eyelids sliding shut and thoughts slowly blurring.

“This is good,” he hears his own voice mumbling. The words are slurred and silent, and he isn’t really sure if Akanishi even hears them – he’s lying behind him after all, so the direction of the sound waves is a bit off.

Slowly but surely he drifts off. Akanishi? Well, it takes him a bit longer. Not that it’s a bad thing.

\--

They share quiet cups of freshly brewed coffee in the morning. Akanishi sprinkles cacao powder on top of Kame’s drink absentmindedly, leaning his cheek against his palm, elbow on the table. He seems withdrawn, his mind somewhere far away. It should make things awkward, but somehow it’s just relaxed and lovely. Kame appreciates it.

Akanishi never asks anything about the papers. He might find it too intrusive – Kame does catch him squinting his eyes while trying to read the text from one sheet nearby. He doesn’t acknowledge the man’s attempt though – it doesn’t really matter. The story is dead anyway. Its value has run out. Now it’s just like a cheap whore all over his room. One that has no one to protect it anymore. Not even Kame.

Neither of them have breakfast. After an hour or so Akanishi finally rises to his feet, attracting Kame’s attention anyway. Kame lets his eyes rest on the tousled dark hair the man tries to swipe into a more acceptable condition.

“I think I’ll get going,” the man announces with a slightly stiff nod. “I promised to meet up with a friend. Thank you for the hospitality.”

“You’re welcome,” Kame mumbles and bows his head slightly. “I’m… glad you stayed over. I’m sorry this place is such a mess.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Akanishi grins lopsidedly and throws his jacket on. “It’s really nice. You have interesting walls. The colour, I mean. Cerulean. People don’t usually really have that.”

Kame nods, appreciative of the compliment. He listens to the sound of the front door closing and wonders why the man hadn’t made any more moves on him. Why he hadn’t been pushy, why he had even gone through with the night. What his motive might’ve been.

He can’t seem to figure it out. Maybe there’s more to Akanishi than he knows. Most likely yes.

He drinks the last drops of his coffee and rinses his mug at the sink. Then he goes to change the sheets, just to get rid of the lingering smell of the man whose name he can’t remember anymore either, now that he thinks of it.

\--

“Thanks for helping me out,” Kame smiles at his mother as she fusses over him. His flat looks more orderly now that the papers of his unfinished work have been filed away, and the room has been dusted and vacuumed. The shades have been opened and sunlight lights up the room, bringing out the vibrant colour of his walls. Not that his mother would be too approving of them. It’s a good thing he understands that only his opinion matters, even if it had taken him years to figure it out.

“I’m happy to help, darling,” she answers as she heats up the quick pot on the stove. It smells heavenly and reminds Kame of home. “You know you can call us anytime if you need help, we’ll make time for you.”

“I know, mum,” he sighs contently as he crashes on his chair by the table, close to the cooking area. The clock ticking on the wall tells him it’s already getting a bit late, and they don’t have too much time left anymore before his father comes from work and picks up his mother on the way. He’s glad she isn’t going to be walking outside alone in the dark.

“Have you gotten yourself a nice girl yet, Kazuya?” she chirps at him and Kame freezes on spot. He stares at her a bit blankly, hoping for her to leave it at that. He doesn’t want to have another one of these conversations again.

“Mum.”

“Yuichiro’s wedding is on the twelfth,” she reminds him, acting nonchalant about his sudden anxiety. “Go out a bit more, Kazuya, will you? Bring a date, it’s going to be such a nice event. You have money to pamper her with a dress.”

“Mum, we’ve talked about this,” Kame pleads her. He knows he isn’t wrong – he used to think that way, mostly because of his family’s attitude, but he’s grown to know better through the years. He just wishes his parents would too. “I don’t like women.”

“You’re still going to marry one and give your father and me grandchildren, right? Do it for your father, he’s incredibly proud of you, son,” she talks with a light and happy tone and turns her head to look at him as she stirs the steaming pot.

“Yuichiro’s going to give you grandchildren soon enough,” Kame insists, trying to soften the blow a little once again. He wonders why his parents still insist and won’t just try to accept it. He’s waited for long enough years already. “Weren’t they already planning children? Besides, I’ve got two other brothers too. Mum, you know I don’t really want a serious relationship. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have it with a woman.”

“Silly boy,” his mother clicks her tongue as she searches for a plate from the cupboards. “Kazuya, you know we love you. We just want the best for you.”

“I know,” Kame croaks as he gets up on his feet to help his mother. He turns the stove off and feels his mother rubbing his arm soothingly. It makes him a little sick to his gut, but he figures it’s just a thing they aren’t going to get over any time soon if ever. “I can take care of myself. I really can, mum.”

“I know you can,” she sighs and hugs him. “But try to keep your eyes open, will you? Bring some lovely lady to the party, even just as a friend. You know how women love parties.”

“I don’t think I’ll bring a date,” Kame decides to object and just get done with it. “I’m really not into relationships. Not after Takeo. You know that, I’ve told you.”

She looks sorrowful as she withdraws from the embrace, keeping Kame at arm length, her fingers softly curling to grasp his shoulders. Often Kame feels bad for being like he is, always causing trouble and grief for his family. He can’t remember when it hadn’t been like that.

The doorbell rings. His mother hugs him tightly again, ruffles his hair and kisses his forehead. It increases his guilt, but she’s trying to smile through her worried expression. She’s always been a good role model – strong, attentive, caring and hardworking. Kame knows he wouldn’t ever ask for a better mother – the only real bad issue they’ve had through the years is this, and that is only because he just doesn’t happen to be the right kind of man for his family. He’s flawed.

“It’s never too late to get back on your feet, Kazuya,” she reminds him and brushes a few short strands of his hair behind his ear. It feels nice. “Try to keep an open mind. Don’t decide it just like that, you don’t know what life will bring you.”

“Sure, mum,” he sighs and smiles at her a bit. He gives her a last brief hug just because he feels like he really needs it and he’s going to miss her again. Then he walks her to the front door, greets his father and sends them off.

He thinks about his mother’s words. He leans against the kitchen counter and carefully eats his hotpot. The steam and aroma of spices opens up his nose. He blows his nose to kitchen tissue before he resumes eating.

…He doubts luck will hit him again. Love like his had to be a one-time thing, and after it he just can’t see himself properly with anyone anymore. Not for the rest of his life.

Love just goes like that.

\--

“I love parties,” Koki mumbles, crumbs of pastries falling out of his mouth. Kame flinches a little and feels embarrassed opposite to his friend in the café. Kame assumes his bad mannerisms are the outcome of too many children under the same roof – Koki’s just one of many, and there’s only so much parents can do when they have too many noisy brats than they can handle. It’s a good thing Koki’s as cute and cuddly as a dog by nature. “If you’re not bringing anyone, I can come as a friend. I’m sure Yuichiro wouldn’t mind.”

“He wouldn’t,” Kame agrees as he tears a small piece of his croissant. “And that’d be nice. Otherwise my parents will just try to introduce me to every single woman at the wedding.”

“They’re going to do that anyway,” Koki notes and drinks half of his cola from the tall glass. Kame groans and buries his face in his hands, already foreseeing the awkward conversations with women who actually think they have a chance. It’s not really his fault per se that he’s just undeniably one hundred per cent homosexual – it’s just something he is. He had tried to hide and deny it when he had been a child, but now that he’s an adult and people are more open towards it he’s fine with himself. It’s not really an issue anymore.

He has Takeo to thank for that.

“You’ll come anyway, right? You can hit on all the girls,” he gives permission to his friend. “Just distract them from me like a good friend, will you?”

“You know I’d never turn down a deal like that,” Koki smirks and raises his glass for it. Kame munches on his croissant and looks out of the café’s window absently. It’s raining outside, and the glass gets stained with tiny little clear droplets racing each other down on the surface. It makes the world seem somehow melancholy, but he doesn’t really shy away from those kind of feelings. If anything, it makes him feel oddly comfortable.

“Any men in your life?” Koki asks him. Kame turns his eyes back to him, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. Koki sounds a bit worried. Kame feels a bit bad for needlessly worrying people around him – he isn’t unhappy. At all. They just often don’t see it.

“No, not really,” he attempts to shrug the question off. “Occasionally in the bedroom but otherwise no.”

“Too bad,” Koki sighs, his hope draining. Koki’s always been quite a bit over-protective – he’s always prepared to push Kame into the stupidest things, but he’s aware of the risks and prepared to support and help him back up in case the flings have a nasty ending. It’s a quality Kame respects.

He blinks stupidly as a familiar-looking couple walks past the window, ducking their heads from the sharp raindrops. He turns his head to follow them and to his surprise sees them stepping in, chattering almost disturbingly loudly. He watches the wide smiles on their faces and turns quickly back to Koki, sort of hoping to avoid getting recognized. Yamapi and Akanishi.

“Is that Kame? Hey!” Yamapi’s voice greets him. Koki frowns curiously as Kame turns around. Yamapi waves his hand enthusiastically and Jin nods, his smile slowly dying away. He looks serious as he yanks his friend’s hand down and hisses something to him.

“You know them?” Koki asks him, stealing a piece of his croissant. “Friends?”

“Yeah,” Kame mumbles. He stuffs half of his remaining croissant in his mouth, hoping to make a dash for it soon. He’s fine with Yamapi, yes – he’s actually been meaning to call the man when he gets his ass to it, but the night with Akanishi had sort of left things awkward between them. Kame doesn’t know where they stand or where Akanishi thinks they stand. They haven’t really seen each other since the morning he had left.

The two friends make their way to their table. Kame gets on with the introductions. Akanishi eyes Koki warily, but he seems to relax soon enough. Yamapi tells Kame something about a funny incident at work, something about a make-up artist causing someone a black eye and the whole table laughs at the incident.

Kame can feel Akanishi’s eyes on him. They’re glued to his neck and the man remains pretty quiet. He tries to occasionally comment on this and that, but his output is shaky and at times a bit too cocky to sound realistic. Koki starts giving him the eye from across the table and the awkwardness grows to the point where Kame can’t wait to get out of where he is. He finishes his croissant but Koki seems to pick up his plan and excuses himself to go and get them both some coffee. Kame curses at him, knowing he’s stuck.

When Koki returns with a way too wide smile Kame kicks him under the table, careful not to accidentally touch the other two men’s legs which proves to be difficult because Akanishi has sunk quite low in his chair, his legs lazily sprawled wherever they happen to reach. Koki offers him a sugar cube in a wrapper and he takes it grudgingly, trying to keep his polite poker face on.

“I’ll go and pay. This is on me,” Yamapi insists as he gets up. Kame glances at the counter – he’s surprised to see long lines of people waiting to place their orders or pay for them. Koki stands up as well and he starts feeling a bit vulnerable.

“I’ll go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” he excuses himself and gives Kame a not-so-disguised wink before he disappears through the tables as well. Kame glances at Akanishi who hawks nervously and straightens his posture on the chair, cheeks burning.

“Have you been sleeping well?” the man asks him, going against Kame’s plan to pretend it never happened right from the beginning of the conversation. He grimaces at the man and shrugs a bit, finishing up with his coffee.

“Well,” he tries to think about it, “at least better, I think. It might’ve been because of the papers. An unfinished book. They rub me the bad way.”

“You’re a writer? I think Yamapi mentioned something like that,” Akanishi tries to provoke a small talk. He’s a bad liar, acting like he’s unsure of the information he’s been given – Kame’s pretty sure he already knows the answer, might even know something vague about his latest works or profession in general, just because he’s been prodding Yamapi for information rather than just listening to it once it’s been offered.

“Yeah, I write. I discovered it in high school,” Kame nods, acting dumb in order to refrain from embarrassing or offending the older man. “I was kind of really bad at everything back then, but then I met this guy who realised I might actually really get far with this if I just tried. He supported me and… well, now I’m a writer. I guess I owe it to him.”

“Cool. I wish I would’ve had something like that too,” Akanishi laughs nervously and stirs his already cold drink. “I was really bad at everything. I actually had to repeat two of my school years just because I really was that bad,” he grins. “Then I realised that all I needed to do was pass comprehensive school and then I could do whatever I wanted to. My art teacher was the only one who encouraged me so… I got sucked into it,” he nods thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t change it. I’m happy where I am.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kame smiles at him. It fuels a really wide smile in return and Akanishi seems to notably relax. He scratches his neck. There’s something almost awfully adorable about him. Kame doesn’t remember the last time someone so see-through had a big crush on him.

“I’ll make Yamapi tell you the next time I have an exhibition,” he insists excitedly. “In case you want to drop by. If arts is your thing. Or you’re just curious. I don’t think it’ll be anything too abstract, I’ve been really curious about humans lately so it’ll probably be pretty influenced by that.”

“Sounds fascinating,” Kame nods, surprised to realise that the man does actually spark up a little interest in him. “Not that I’m any good with arts but... It sounds fascinating. I might see if I have time for it.”

“Just give me a call, I’ll give you a tour,” Akanishi promises him immediately, starting to slowly move closer to him. Kame doesn’t think he’s doing it consciously – he’s fairly sure Akanishi would seem more bothered if he did, because he really seems to be crap at hiding things. Kame laughs, wondering if Akanishi even remembers that they don’t have each other’s phone numbers. He doesn’t want to remind him, though, because he isn’t sure if he’s ready to trust the man with his number. He’s a bit afraid that the man turns out to be a total girl when it comes to love, texting him every five minutes. He doesn’t think he’s ready to handle that.

“Hi lovebirds,” Koki greets him and whistles, startling Kame as he suddenly appears from behind him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Ah. Yes,” Kame mumbles and gets up on his feet. He offers Akanishi a hand and shakes it politely. Akanishi looks out of place with the handshake – Kame gets a feeling there’s a reason of some sort to all his foreign friends. “It was nice to meet you again. I might see you around.”

“Yeah. I. Um. I think I’ll just stay here, Yamapi’s still… somewhere,” the man frowns and tries to stretch his neck to see the counter. “But yeah, it was really good to see you.”

“Great to meet you, man,” Koki laughs and motions for a manlier handshake. Akanishi grins a bit wider, more at ease with this gesture than the one Kame had offered him. Koki waves his hand at him and starts walking away. Kame stalls, checking that he’s still carrying his wallet and mobile phone.

“Tell Yamapi it was nice to see him,” Kame says. Akanishi nods, and then Kame jogs after his friend, eager to get out. His head feels a bit dizzy and confusing.

Koki cracks up in loud and mean laughter the moment they make it through the doors. Kame curses as he pulls his hood over his head to have some cover from the rain. He’s sure his cheeks are burning.

“And you said there were no men in your life! You big fat liar!”

Kame wishes he could fall through the pavement and disappear. For good, preferably. “There aren’t. He has a crush on me, not the other way around.”

“He seemed like a good guy,” Koki tries to prompt him. “Awkward is good, it means he actually really cares. He’ll grow out of it eventually if you two go steady,” he nudges, a wide grin plastered over his face. “Plus he didn’t seem boring. You’re both creative, you’re bound to have things in common.”

“Arts and literature are two entirely different things, Koki,” Kame reminds him, pushing his fists in his pockets. He can feel his jaw clenching. “I’m not saying he’s bad. I’m just not into him.”

“I thought he was good-looking for a man,” Koki shrugs. “Not that I’d really understand from your point of view but he didn’t seem too bad. The guy even had a beauty spot, did you notice? Here, right beside the eye, just like you. Oh, the things you have in common!”

“You talked with him for fifteen minutes,” Kame sighs. “Koki. You know how I feel about relationships. I already have to keep repeating it to my mother, please don’t make me repeat it to you too.”

“I’m saying your mother has a point,” Koki shrugs. He stops smiling, becoming more serious to prepare himself for the forthcoming conversation. “I’m not telling you to spend the rest of your life with the guy. Just give him a chance, he might turn out to be good.”

“I’m just looking for company and pleasure,” Kame snarls, licking his lip anxiously, fists curling and uncurling in his pockets. “Not companionship, romance and commitment. I don’t want to get involved at someone else’s expense. He likes me too much, I’d hurt him.”

Koki’s dampened hair gets glued to his forehead. He looks genuinely sad and tired as he looks at Kame. He hates how easily people make him feel guilty for being who he is.

“I don’t think that decision is fully yours,” Koki finally voices his thought and Kame finds his mouth drying and hands shaking helplessly inside his pockets. “…Kame.”

“Koki, stop it.”

“It’s been three years,” his friend tries to talk to him soothingly. He moves to walk just a bit closer to him, their sides brushing together. “You know, I never really liked the guy. He wasn’t as great as he made you think he was.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Koki whines. “But I think you should think about it. What in that little head of yours is actually yours and what he’s implanted there. We both know what he did. I just think… it could do some good for you,” he encourages him and drapes an arm over his shoulder. Kame keeps his eyes set on the pavement. It’s darkened by the rain. “You really should think about it.”

Kame buries his face in Koki’s shoulder. His clothes smell like wet dog but it isn’t unpleasant like one could think, not at all. Koki’s always been his safety rock.

“You’re a good friend. But I’m serious, Koki.”

“I’m serious too.”

Kame sniffs. Koki rubs his arm comfortingly, not caring about the weird looks people give them on the streets. Even now Kame hates them – he hates how they judge him, objectify him and think lowly of him, _just because_.

“Tell your friend to set you up on a date,” Koki advices him, trying to smile at him to lighten up the mood a little. “It’s been ages since you went out on an actual date. It could be fun. Won’t hurt to try, right? Think about it.”

Eventually, Kame gives in and promises to think about it. He spends the night lying on his futon, shaking on the verge of a panic attack as he tries to open the locks in his head to allow himself to _think_. It feels wrong.

\--

He pays Yamapi a call. It’s awkward and stiff and makes Kame even more convinced that the whole thing really is a bad idea, but he goes through with it just because he feels like he himself needs to know. The chances of the whole thing coming apart and turning out disastrous are ridiculously high. Kame has no idea where he gets the willpower to go through with it, but before he really even has time to digest it, a date has already been set – two days later he meets Jin in front of the art gallery, his aureolin trousers stuffed into brown boots and black cardigan hugging his torso over the white shirt. He fiddles with his wooden bracelets as Jin jogs into view, panting awfully and face red. He stops and leans to the support of his knees.

“You didn’t have to run,” Kame tries to tease him. Better get rid of the awkwardness right away or the day will be horrible.

“I’m late,” Akanishi pants. “T-the bus. It got stuck in t-traffic. So,” he huffs and straightens his posture, nodding at him, still short of air. “H-hi. You look good. Really good.”

Kame bites his lip, finding himself a bit amused. He mutters a strained “You too” just out of politeness and lets Akanishi hook their arms. He seems determined but absolutely lost as he starts pulling him down the street towards the centre. Kame feels awfully reminded of older days when he last did things like this.

“Where are we going?” he wheezes from under his breath. Jin smirks at him embarrassedly and whispers “A secret!” without making a stop. Kame feels anxious, not knowing his date plan – he’s prepared for some dinner or art museum touring, but finds himself surprised as Jin pulls him into a bowling centre, snickering excitedly.

“I thought we could do something fun,” he tries to explain himself, as if Kame would be entitled to hear the reasoning behind his choices. “Here we can talk and do something. Do you like bowling?”

“I’ve only bowled a few times in my life,” Kame admits as they head towards the counter. He lets go of Jin’s arm, not feeling at ease being so obviously on a date when the place is filled with strangers. Besides, he doesn’t know what the state of Akanishi’s popularity with the press is, given that his current exhibition is displayed at a fancy gallery. “I was pretty good though, I’ve got to warn you. My aim is brilliant.”

“Ah, I wonder if this was a good idea after all,” Jin grimaces. “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he instructs as he gets in line to pay for his reservation. Kame fidgets around nervously – nobody’s really looking at them, except for a pair of friends who look and walk away as soon as Kame notices their eyes on them.

“This way, Kame,” Akanishi instructs him and walks towards an empty track, picking up a pair of bowling trainers from the shoe shelf. Kame follows him, grabbing a pair with himself, and he jumps on one foot for the last steps towards their track as he tries to pull his boot off. They leave their things on a red couch, which is rough to the touch and slightly uncomfortable. It’s a good thing they probably aren’t going to sit around too much.

“So, who starts?” Akanishi asks him with a nervous smirk as he goes to get a ball, his trainers already in his feet. The ball is cyan, Kame notes with a chuckle and takes it from Akanishi’s hand, slipping his fingers in the holes. Jin winks at him approvingly and Kame can’t resist smiling, not quite sure why he’s enjoying himself so much.

It could be that he just likes being admired, he figures. There’s been so much hate and disappointment towards him in his life that he can’t help but relax in the man’s company.

“Make way,” he commands and Akanishi backs away, his eyes glued to Kame as he takes a few well-practiced steps ahead and lets go of the ball. It collides with the wooden track and runs straight forward, hitting the pins and sending then flying and colliding with each other. Two remain standing and Kame curses, but smirks at Akanishi anyway. The man smirks back and comes over to bully him.

The game is on, and Kame’s excited to see the final results.

Akanishi isn’t bad per se – he’s competitive and eager to get as many strikes as possible. Still, he’s a bit hasty and lacks focus, so it’s not unusual for his balls to hook too strongly. Akanishi’s the sort of person who plays with the hook and tries to use it to his advantage while Kame trusts his straight balls. The division of the pins still standing after their turns is different, Kame having them on both edges and Jin only on one side, whichever it happens to be.

It’s enjoyable, though.

“Ahhh, you’re making me feel like I suck at this!” Akanishi pouts and pushes Kame out of the way after his second strike. Kame laughs and shoves him back, making him almost drop the neon pink bowling ball he’s holding. “Hey, careful!”

“Says who?” Kame teases back, grinning widely at the man. “Akanishi, stop playing innocent, it doesn’t suit you when you’re being childish!”

“Jin,” Akanishi insists, his muscles straining a bit as he swings his hand experimentally, trying to determine the force he should use. “I call you Kame, so… We’re on a date, just say Jin. Everyone does, I don’t go much by last name.”

“Jin,” Kame corrects himself, finding it a bit hard to breathe. First name basis reminds him of his stand to relationships, what he still believes to be the right thing for him – staying as far away from them as possible. Jin’s ball lands off the track and rolls all the way to the pit without hitting a single pin. He turns around to look at him, looking slightly lost because of his sudden silence. “Have you by any chance been abroad a lot?”

“Yeah,” Jin answers with a hesitant mumble, checking their scores from the board nervously. He scratches his nose and Kame sees his shoulders rising protectively. “I lived in Los Angeles for half a year. And I’ve got a lot of friends from international schools.”

“Interesting,” Kame nods – he’s been abroad himself too, not really living but just visiting occasionally when he’s had the money and time to do so. He’s never been to America, though. Mostly Europe, places like Paris and London because of his fascination for fashion. “Are you planning on going back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What do you think about America?”

“It’s pretty mainstream,” Kame admits, picking up a bowling ball and weighing it in his hand carefully. “Of course there are several great things about America. But there’s also something really shallow about it that doesn’t fit with my aesthetics.”

 

“Ah,” Jin nods. He seems a bit offended but refrains from commenting. “So do you like other countries at all?”

“Yes. France is really fascinating. I enjoy their wine. Lately I’ve also been a bit interested in Africa. The tribes and wildlife. I think I’d like to do a bungee jump there.”

“…Bungee jumping and wine… How on earth can you sound so sophisticated and easy-going at the same time?!” Jin gasps. Kame laughs at his widened eyes and surprised expression. He shakes his head and throws the ball, managing to knock down only four pins.

“Eehhhh,” he complains and goes to get another ball. “But yeah, I guess there are many sides in me. I’m a sucker for atmospheres which could have something to do with it.”

Kame’s second ball fails on its mission too. They’ve almost used up the time already – Kame wonders if that’s it or if Jin has more planned for the day. He thinks about Koki and feels slightly grateful for listening to him about this, because Jin somehow really manages to relax him and just make him have fun. He’s fresh.

In the end, he wins. Only by three points, but Jin takes him to pick up ice cream cones from a nearby supermarket to celebrate. It’s really cold to eat them outside but they do it anyway, whining and complaining and laughing all the while. Kame’s teeth hurt from the cold and Jin’s cheeks and the tip of his nose burn rosy. Kame is reminded again that he really is a good-looking man, one that many would kill for. And for some strange reason he seems to have him wrapped around his finger.

“Do you want dinner or something?” Jin sniffs after they throw the wrappings to a nearby public bin and stuff their freezing hands to their pockets. Kame nods, his stomach starting to grumble – he had been prepared for lunch, not bowling, so he’d only eaten breakfast and that had been during the ungodly hours of the morning, so he’s pretty much nearing starvation mode already. “Okay, dinner it is then,” the man grins. “So, what kind of food do you like? Or restaurants in general…”

“Well, hopefully not anything too plain,” Kame laughs. “I’m not really into burgers and stuff,” he winks, “unless they’re served as some sort of a steak house where they have more taste. But if you’re picky I don’t mind ramen.”

“Hmm,” Jin considers, tilting his head a little in thought. Kame pulls at his sleeve gently, saving a fellow pedestrian from a collision because of his absentminded date. “Oh. But um. Would you like Italian by any chance? Pasta’s good.”

“Pasta’s good,” Kame agrees with the man. “Do you have a specific place in mind?”

“There’s one place downtown, my friend was a waiter there at some point. They serve fresh bread too, and the food is properly made. It doesn’t really swim in liquid sauces where you can see the grease.”

Kame nods approvingly, looking forward to the meal. When they make it to the restaurant Kame finds himself surprised – the walls have deep red tapestry and the furniture is dark mahogany. They leave their jackets hanging on the coat rack beside their table for two before sitting down. They fight over the menu with mischievous giggles before they decide to both read it at the same time, him standing behind Jin and leaning over his shoulder to see. Some customers keep giving them weird glances but Jin doesn’t even seem to notice them which makes things easier for Kame as well.

“Prawn linguine sounds good,” Jin ponders, pointing at one dish. Kame grimaces as he reads the dish’s ingredients, shaking his head. “You take that, I don’t eat tomatoes. I’m tempted by spaghetti carbonera, haven’t had ham in a while.”

“Creamy~” Jin teases him. For some reason Kame can’t help but take his smirk in a sexual way and he slaps the man’s head gently, making him wince. “Let me see the wines,” he insists and grabs the menu from Jin’s hand before the man has time to react. He flips to the drinks section and eyes the list quickly. “Red or white?”

“Red, it goes well with my tomatoes,” Jin grins at him childishly and Kame clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He knows their behaviour is exceptionally bad and wonders how Jin manages to get it out of him, but he does. The man’s really not that bad to hang out with. “Okay, I think I know. Any antipasti?”

“Show me, don’t just ask,” Jin whines and Kame chuckles as he presses against the man’s side again. Jin drapes an arm around his torso as they both lean over the menu on the table. Kame flips the pages back to the beginning, trying not to feel too alarmed about the fingers softly drumming on his shirt.

“Let’s just have salad,” Kame suggests. Jin nods and waves the waiter over as Kame slips back to his chair on the other side of the table. They place their order and the waiter soon comes to bring them the wine. Jin seems a bit wary with it as he tries it, saying he’s not that much of a wine-person, but in the end he finds the taste sufficient enough and Kame smiles as he happily sips at his own drink.

They enjoy freshly baked bread and salad while waiting for their meals. Jin’s quick to devour the dark olives amidst the salad leaves and Kame chuckles, stealing one for himself before they’re going to run out of them. Their forks clang together and they chuckle. He feeds Jin an olive, just because.

It’s nothing serious. He wants to keep it that way – nothing too pressing, just a half-hearted experiment of some sort. Jin is light company, blabbering about attending Johnny’s auditions as a kid but failing and feeling sad and pissed about it for months before running off to play football with the bigger kids. He’s been a happy and vibrant child from what it sounds. It’s really adorable. Kame remembers he hasn’t had a nicer guy in a while.

“How were your school years?” Jin asks him as he sips more wine, casual and deeply sucked in the conversation. “I bet all the girls liked you.”

“They didn’t,” Kame sighs truthfully, unpleasant memories rushing back. “I was a really ugly kid. Scrawny with caterpillar eyebrows, not really anyone’s thing. Being stupid didn’t exactly help – I only started getting a bit more popular after I started playing baseball in secondary school and plucked my eyebrows but… that phase didn’t last for long, not until the word that I was gay got out.”

“Oh,” Jin mumbles, taken aback. “Kids… can be a bit…”

“Tell me about it,” Kame tries to laugh it off. “Not that it matters anymore, though. That was then.”

“So… you don’t like women at all?” Jin questions him curiously. “How do you see women then? Being a man and liking only men… I’m a bit curious. I don’t really have any purely gay friends.”

He’s a bisexual then, Kame assumes. Sounds plausible, given the man’s wavering personality. “Women are nice. They’re beautiful, I guess. But I don’t fully get their things and they can be awfully complicated… I like older women more,” Kame admits and Jin almost chokes on his wine, coughing and hitting his chest repeatedly. “Oh, come on! They have… interesting things to talk about!”

“You’re so weird,” Jin chuckles. His amusement reaches his eyes – they sparkle and his cheeks rise with childish enthusiasm, something Kame finds incredibly attractive. “You worry me, even though you just admitted to being gay!”

“Don’t be so loud about it,” Kame wails, feeling people’s stares at his neck. He’s sure to keep his eyes on Jin and Jin only, avoiding the anxiety to the best of his abilities. “And there’s nothing bad with enjoying mature company who have interesting stories to tell. Nothing sexual about that.”

They enjoy their meals a bit more peacefully. The spaghetti carbonera is delicious, and Kame makes sure to let the waiter deliver his appreciation to the chef. His stomach doesn’t take the whole amount of his dish though, but Jin is happy to step in and devour the rest. Kame enjoys most of the wine himself, feeling quite tipsy even with the food in his stomach. He absently wipes some of the creamy sauce from the corner of Jin’s lips with his thumb and wipes it in his napkin.

When they step out of the restaurant the sun has already set. The city is illuminated with bright human-made lights. Some drivers blast their horns in the jam they’re in, and they quickly agree to walk home instead of trying to catch a bus. It’s a long way they mostly walk in silence. Jin’s eyes are casted downwards to his feet and he seems to be deep in thought. Kame’s wondering about things too. Thinking about his feelings, what he wants to do next. If he wants to do anything next.

“We’re here.”

“Ah,” Kame wakes from his thoughts and stops. They stand in front of the apartment building where Kame’s flat is situated and Jin looks a bit awkward, scratching his nose. His lips are slightly pursed and he seems more uncertain now, self-awareness slowly creeping in.

Kame licks his lips nervously and crosses his arms. Finally, he decides to take the leap.

“Do you want to come up?” he asks the man bluntly. The whole dating thing… well, it wasn’t really his forte, had never been, maybe because he never got to them much. Sex, however, is easier and keeps things casual, which is good because he’s not hoping for anything too permanent and serious. Just a good time and some self-searching.

Jin coughs nervously and licks his lip. Eventually he nods and Kame tries to smile at him reassuringly – what is it with the man and his lack of confidence at the most awful timings when he usually seems to be so full of it? He takes it that Jin is just a hopeless romantic of some sorts, overwhelmed with tender emotions. He puts the assumption behind his ear – it might cause trouble later.

Once the door closes behind them, Kame kicks his boots off and slides his jacket on the floor, not caring about cleaning up. He pulls Jin into a pressing kiss, runs his tongue over his plump lips and the slick line of his teeth. Jin still faintly tastes like the food they had, a pleasant mix of herbs and cream. Jin gasps and opens his mouth, granting an opening Kame confidently takes advantage of. Their tongues brush and Jin almost chokes on his moan. It sends exciting shivers running through Kame’s body.

Jin kicks his own shoes off before Kame pulls him further in, hands laid on his broad shoulders. He lets his palms run from the fabric to the bare skin of the man’s neck, making Jin close his eyes from the sensation. He sinks his fingers in the soft and thick tresses, tugging the man forward a bit, not minding taking control of the situation. Jin’s arms drape themselves around Kame’s lower back and pull him close. Their bodies brush together when one moves and it makes Kame jolt a bit, his senses tickling in anticipation.

Jin isn’t a bad man candidate to have intercourse with. Not at all. The man buries his face somewhere on Kame’s neck. His warm breaths feel good against the bare skin, and his hair tickles Kame’s jaw.

Kame pushes the man down on the futon and climbs over him, pressing another wanton kiss on the man’s swelling lips. Jin starts tensing up beneath him and he pulls away a little, turning his head. What an earth now?

“Jin?”

“Let’s not… too far,” Jin mumbles, anxious all of a sudden. He looks a bit apologetic as he runs his fingers through Kame’s hair. He meets Kame’s eyes but his gaze hovers. Kame sighs and rolls off him, but Jin flails an arm around him quickly, not letting him escape far.

“It’ll be okay, right?” the man peeps. Kame can hear the echo of Jin’s heartbeat – it’s racing anxiously, sounding like something he used to have. He looks at the man a bit worryingly and relaxes under his touch, pressing his palm on the man’s cheek.

“Sure,” he gives in. It’s obviously a big thing for Jin, even though Kame doesn’t know why. People have their reasons, he just hopes it’s something unrelated to him specifically. “Not too far.”

“We can snuggle and stuff. I can stay over,” Jin opts with a hopeful tone, hand moving to rest on Kame’s hip. Kame thinks about it – he looks at the cerulean walls and thinks _why the hell not_ and moves a bit closer. Jin smooches his lips gently, sucking on them in a way that makes Kame really want to take it to another level but he holds out.

“…You’re fluff,” Kame complains a bit awkwardly, making Jin grin as he leans his torso over him to kiss him better. The man keeps the gesture light and playful, innocent in a level Kame isn’t really used to. “You’re seriously fluff.”

“Sorry,” Jin mumbles against his lips, tilting his head a little and brushing their noses together. “I hope it’s alright.”

“…It’s alright,” Kame agrees with a mumble and pulls Jin in a gentle embrace, feeling sucked in by the sudden odd atmosphere. He sets his brains on free run and decides not to think about it, not to think of anything – just enjoy the moment and go with it. He’ll think about it later.

They don’t get off the futon. Kame feels his body relaxing under Jin’s ministrations and dozes off within an hour, feeling slightly aroused as he breathes in the scent of the man’s fruity shampoo. The first date hadn’t been as unsuccessful as he had been expecting.

\--

“It’s a remarkable work, Kamenashi-san. We’ll be honoured to publish it, but as usual there are some conditions,” a well-clad advocate of the publishing company informs Kame and his agent in a meeting. Kame keeps drumming his fingers to his thigh, not really looking forward to any conditions. For the other side it’s just business – to him it’s his lifetime work, something he’d like to enjoy in the future too rather than become just another one of the company’s puppet writers.

“We’re ready to discuss if they’re acceptable, Katou-san,” Kame’s long-time agent Watanabe Ren informs the man, making eye contact with Kame first. Kame trusts Watanabe – he’s been able to swarm out of the company’s requests for this long, but Kame doubts their winning strike is going to last forever. They’ve been pushing the boundaries for too many years with too many books, refusing to sign a contract to actually write a specific amount of books for the company yearly and not run to any other ones. Kame dislikes the idea – writing shouldn’t be something he should force under control. It’d take its beauty away.

“We’d like it if Kamenashi-san would play a part in the marketing,” Katou requests, pushing a thin file to them over the table. Kame eyes the file suspiciously – he’s never had any interest in the marketing section of the publishing – he lets his agent and publishers deal with that part. He isn’t too fond of the idea of being in a spotlight talking about his work and giving speeches.

Watanabe takes the file and opens it, starting to flip through so that Kame can see them too. Just what he would expect – a book festival attendance with some program, several talk shows, a book signing event and magazine interviews. Ah. He frowns and shakes his head slightly at his agent.

“Anything else?” Watanabe asks deliberately, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. His thumb presses against his thin lips and Kame waits agitatedly, shifting his weight forward on the chair. He really hopes he doesn’t have to do at least all of the things named in the file. He could give in a little, but if they start requesting too much it might be time to swap publishers.

“For five years you’ve been bringing our company books for publishing,” the advocate of the company starts talking and Kame can envision the tsunami coming his way. “We see potential in you, Kamenashi. You’ve even had two bestsellers without much advertising at all. That’s why we would like to ensure our co-operation in the future too by a contract.”

“What kind of contract?” Kame snaps. Watanabe gives him a warning look – they’re the underlings, and inappropriate behaviour towards the higher ranking people who possibly hold the future of your career isn’t the smartest move. “Can we see?”

“I have it right here,” Katou says with a falsely chime and pulls the neat paper out from his briefcase. Kame extends his hand and snatches the paper from his hand, eyeing it through quickly. Ah. Just as expected.

“It says here the company will publish two of my books per year,” he says with a sharp tone and hands the paper over to his agent. “And that I can’t publish through any other company, or even place any of my works anywhere. And that the marketing will be mandatory from now on.”

“Yes,” Katou nods calmly and enlaces his fingers, leaning his elbows on the table. “You’re valuable, Kamenashi. We’ve been discussing how things would work the best and this is the conclusion we’ve agreed on. Less books isn’t a bad thing. It’ll allow us to raise the price of the books and give the fans something to look forward to.”

“No,” Kame shakes his head to Watanabe. The man purses his lips thoughtfully and bows his head, excusing them for a minute for discussion. He drags Kame out of the office to the busy corridor and places a hand on Kame’s shoulder, sighing deep.

“It’s not a bad deal,” he murmurs quietly, eyeing the people around them. Kame shakes his head – no. He can’t see himself being just one of those writers. He thinks of all the stories that would be left untold and the marketing that could completely ruin the books for someone. It’s not something he wants. He wants to remain mysterious, almost anonymous.

His profession is something he loves to do and he’s proud of that. He doesn’t want to become a robot, or else he might change his attitude towards the whole thing.

“It goes against my policies,” he mutters an answer and crosses his arms anxiously. “I could handle some of the marketing, but the contract is ridiculous. I think we should just swap companies.”

“It’s not that simple,” Watanabe reminds him with a grimace. He’s a realist and Kame appreciates that. He likes having someone that knows how things work with him. It makes him feel less helpless. “Times are rocky for the publishers right now. People read less now with all the electronic gadgets and the yen’s value is going down. Now isn’t a good time to take in new people who are only looking for an occasional one-time thing. I understand why they’re worried.”

“I refuse a contract like this,” Kame whimpers, starting to feel desperate. “I’ve had a few bestsellers, surely you can worm me in somewhere?”

“Kamenashi, maybe you need to sleep on this. Take some time to think about it,” Watanabe tries to calm him down, fingers squeezing his shoulder. Kame feels a heavy weight at the pit of his stomach – he doesn’t know how he’s just supposed to sleep over it and suddenly change his mind. It’s impossible. “I can try to ask around, but I think we shouldn’t turn this contract down completely. Just ask for some time to think about it.”

“I don’t want the contract.”

“ _Kamenashi_ ,” Watanabe says, his voice pressing. The voice of reason. It almost sounds like scolding. “I’ll see what I can do, but we shouldn’t turn it down. Try to adjust to the idea and we’ll see what we’ll do.”

He gets a month to come up with a definite answer to the publishing company, which is surprisingly a lot – they must be serious about him. Watanabe schedules some meetings to discuss the contents of the contract and if they can come to an agreement about some things. He tells Kame not to expect too much, though – if they can’t find another company to take them under their wing, they’ll have no choice but to take what they can get.

Kame’s furious when he gets home.

\--

An unknown number calls him a few days later. He’s downtown at the gym then, having just finished with an intense boxing training with Ueda. He stares dumbly at the screen of his phone and grimaces, hands slick with sweat. He flips the lid open and presses the green button to answer.

“Kamenashi Kazuya.”

 _“Hi, it’s Jin,”_ a nervous tone greets him from the other end of the line. Kame blinks and remembers that they hadn’t exchanged numbers during their last meeting. He assumes Jin got it from Yamapi and contemplated days whether he should call or not. Kame had almost forgotten about the whole thing already. _“Are you busy right now?”_

“Just finished training at the gym,” he mumbles and uncaps his water bottle. Ueda gives him a curious look and mouths him a question – _who is it_? Kame waves him off and the man rolls his eyes, grabbing his towel and disappearing to the showers. “Why do you ask?”

There’s a brief silence and Kame realises what his question must’ve sounded like. He swears with a quiet groan before he realises he isn’t really making things any better. “I’m sorry, I just –”

 _“No no no, it’s okay,”_ Akanishi’s voice laughs hollowly, trying to cover up the hurt he’s clearly feeling. _“I just thought I’d call and ask if you’d have some time someday and maybe meet up but, um, I think I’ll just leave you my number now and you’ll see what you’ll do, okay?”_

“No, Jin,” Kame groans, massaging his temples with his free hand anxiously. God he smells like sweat. “I’m sorry, that just came out wrong. I’ll be off in twenty minutes or so. Or if you aren’t free now then maybe some other time.”

 _“I’m free until seven, then I’ve got an appointment with this man I got to model for me,”_ Jin peeps, sounding significantly happier and more confident. _“What do you want to do?”_

“Another nude then, huh,” he wonders aloud, not knowing if he should be offended. “Regarding the date plans, I don’t really know. I’m kind of exhausted, the training really burned me out,” he laughs, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Something relaxing would be nice. A movie, perhaps?”

 _“Sounds cool. A bit quiet, but cool,”_ Jin agrees quickly, probably determined not to blow off any of Kame’s suggestions. _“Meet me at the cinema? Roppongi Hills. Let’s decide what we’ll see there.”_

“Yeah, sounds good,” Kame agrees with a hesitant smile. “I’ll go and take a shower now. I’ll see you there.”

_“See you.”_

“A movie, huh,” Ueda asks him as he steps out of the shower room, a wet towel tied around his hips. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes. It makes Kame want to run like hell – Ueda sometimes has that effect on people. For good reasons too. “Sounded like a date. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Akanishi. From the gallery,” Kame shrugs as he saves Jin’s number before slipping his phone back into his bag and starting to go through it to find his clean towel. Ueda whistles. “Koki said I should try it out so. It’s nothing serious.”

“Says the guy who hasn’t had a date in ages,” Ueda notes as he pulls his boxers on. “I’d fuck him,” he adds, shrugging his shoulders and giving Kame a longer look. “If you’re really not serious, that is.”

 

“I’ll tell you when I’m done with him then,” Kame laughs and strips his gym clothes off. They pool around his ankles before he stuffs them in a plastic bag he keeps in his sports bag. “I’m not sure if I’ll keep this up for too long. It’s just really not my thing.”

Ueda throws his sports bag over his shoulder, ready to go. He smiles at Kame and waves his hand as he starts walking towards the door. “Keep him for as long as you want. First come first serve! He could surprise you. I’m happy you’re trying.”

“Thanks,” Kame mumbles, zipping his sports bag thoughtfully. “I guess.”

“I’ll see you next Tuesday. Four o’clock, right?”

Ueda sounds like he’s in a hurry and Kame recalls overhearing him talking to one of the other boxers at the gym about his weekend plan of going hiking to the mountains. Kame assumes he’s going to spend the entire weekend out of the city, maybe in some cosy cabin or luxurious hotel suite, and just waves him off too with a nod.

After the shower he rushes to meet Jin at the cinema where he’s awkwardly standing – Kame recognizes him from the slightly high-pitched but still thrilled laughter as he chats with two women, a fedora hiding half of his face. Kame makes his way over hesitantly, not sure if he should interfere.

Jin shrugs the women off and they go to see a movie. It’s relaxing – no need to talk for a change, just watch. He doubts Jin focuses much on the Japanese movie displayed on the white screen. He fidgets and keeps looking at Kame before Kame grabs his hand to calm him down, just because the movie’s actually pretty good and Jin is making it hard for him to concentrate properly.

They part with a lazy kiss in front of the building, Kame’s hand on Jin’s hip. No tongue, just lips and perhaps a little friction in the casual sort of way. Then Kame grabs a taxi home and Jin insists he’ll walk to his studio because it’s nearby somewhere.

Kame decides that dating isn’t so bad as long as it isn’t serious.

\--

“I _insist_ ,” Jin exclaims excitedly as he pulls Kame from his wrist towards the little square building on the quieter streets. Kame assumes that most of the other metal squares are for companies to store their products or for some richer people with too much possessions yet too little space to just throw theirs away for some years, waiting to be rediscovered. He chuckles awkwardly and watches the man slip a metal key in before opening the door and turning on the lights.

It’s more spacious than he had expected, but the messiness is just right. He slips in and closes the door behind him, looking around curiously. Paintings of various sizes are piled on one corner of the room, and some are still leaning against the wall.

“They’re still drying,” Jin explains as he makes his way further in, beckoning Kame with a flick of his wrist. “Come on, you’ll be safe as long as you won’t touch the wet paintings. No ghosts here!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kame mumbles amusedly and decides to follow Jin. There’s a cosy couch and some stools. There’s a metal shelf with all kinds of paint bottles in neat rows, paintbrushes, charcoals and even a stand where the familiar-looking camera stands proudly.

He has to admit that he likes the place. Jin turns the radio on and Kame wanders to have a better look at the still-wet paintings. They depicture a man, sprawled on a bed on his stomach, stretching lazily. His skin looks smooth in the picture and eyes hazy – the man’s beautiful for Kame’s standards. He’s perhaps a bit too skinny but nothing too bad.

The colours aren’t too vibrant this time, though. They consist mostly of different tasty shades of brown and yellow. The signature at the lower right is painted with cerulean and Kame chuckles – it reminds him of his walls. Not that Jin would’ve been thinking about them, probably.

“It’s pretty matte compared to the previous paintings,” he decides to say aloud, turning his head to look at Jin as the man walks over to him and pulls him in his arms from behind, pressing his chin on his shoulder. He’s close, but it’s in a friendly way.

“I hate sticking to one style,” Jin admits. “The whole bright colours thing was a phase. This is just a phase too, people will bore me eventually. I don’t know what I should do,” he sighs and whimpers, rocking Kame anxiously. “I don’t feel inspired enough. All these paintings, they don’t feel right. Something’s missing but I have no idea what.”

“They’re sensual,” Kame says slowly, leaning back against Jin. Not that he would understand too much about painting humans with their privacies visible for the world to see. It’s just that they don’t strike him as pornographic anyway. “But maybe they’re too… usual.”

“I agree,” Jin pouts, nuzzling his nose into Kame’s neck. The man’s breaths makes his tender skin tickle somewhat, but he doesn’t object. He sort of likes feeling subtly aroused. Not to mention that this is their seventh date with just the two of them without sex – he’s starting to get more than a bit worried about the nature of their meetings. Any chance he’ll get for it, he’ll jump it. “I’ve been sort of interested in contemporary art lately. I think I want to somehow mix it with the exhibition to make it complete but I don’t know how yet. It hasn’t come to me.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait until it comes to you,” Kame smiles as he turns around, slipping his arms over Jin’s shoulders and entwining his fingers somewhere behind Jin’s neck. The man smirks playfully and nibs at the skin of Kame’s cheek, pulling slightly. Kame lets his eyelids fall closed – Jin’s good with ministrations. He’s learned to like the not-so-bold moves the man makes. Jin can make him hard without shedding an article of clothing.

Kame wonders how long he’ll have to wait for sex. He can’t seem to figure out the reason behind Jin’s withdrawn behaviour on the area. The man flinches and gets stiff every time he tries to arouse him a bit too much. He’s not terrified enough to make at least a recent victim of rape, but Kame can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something off about him when it comes to sex. He could have something ridiculously embarrassing like a tiny penis or erection issues, but from what Kame has seen and felt through the fabric of his boxer-briefs, he wouldn’t be so sure about that either.

Jin’s a mystery of sorts, one he doesn’t know how to unravel. It keeps him mildly interested.

They end up on the couch, Jin lying on him. The man is warm and heavy but something about the confinement appeases Kame. Jin cradles his chin on his hands, peering down at him contently. Kame ruffles his hair jokingly, nervous because of the look in the man’s eyes. He isn’t sure if he wants to see it.

Jin blows the hair to the side in order to see him better. He finds Kame’s hand and enlaces their fingers, softly pressing their hips together. Kame lets out a gentle wheeze and Jin chuckles as he leans forward to peck him on the lips.

Kame’s mind sort of starts to wander off to Jin’s hands. He imagines them running down his back, perhaps cupping his ass or drawing circles in his inner thighs and leans forward himself, claiming a longer kiss. Jin breaks it and smiles, running his fingers through Kame’s hair.

“I was popular at school,” he suddenly says. His tone is light – it sounds like a random conversation topic that just popped into the man’s head out of nowhere. In Kame’s opinion it might sound a bit _too_ light though, but he assumes that it also might be just him and his bad school experiences.

“Uh huh,” he gulps and feels Jin’s lips hovering over his again. He tries to tilt his chin forward to reach their warmth but Jin’s hand in his hair keeps his head pressed against the rough fabric of the royal blue couch and his lips withdraw just slightly. Kame can still feel and smell his breath on his face. “Good looking, social, older and a bit silly. Girls really fancied that.”

“Narcissist,” Kame teases him with a murmur and tries to push his knees slowly between Jin’s legs. Jin crawls higher up to sit on his lower stomach, avoiding the intrusion. No then. “Jin.”

“People thought I was stupid too. Well, I guess they were right,” he laughs hollowly too. It alerts Kame’s warning signals and makes him feel uneasy underneath the man. They’re locked in Jin’s studio and anyone hearing his screams or coming for help is unlikely.

Kame’s well familiar with the bitter tone that foreshadows situations he’d rather not be in.

“Get off me.”

Jin bites his lip unsurely. He looks startled by his sudden cold voice and withdraws slowly. He doesn’t get off Kame’s chest, only sits there. He looks less threatening but incredibly hurt and lost. Kame licks his lip nervously – he hadn’t meant to snap per se, not without a proper reason. He had expected Jin to put up a resistance, maybe get aggressive on him all of sudden, but having him just sit there anxiously makes Kame feel more than a bit guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles and raises his hands to brush Jin’s arms reassuringly. “I just thought. Never mind,” he gulps and snakes a hand behind Jin’s neck. He tangles it in the long and soft strands of hair, smooth to the touch. “Your tone of voice got a bit scary.”

“I’m sorry too. I guess I got a bit carried away,” Jin answers quietly. His voice is raspy and hesitant, and Kame thinks that maybe the man had been trying to say something. Now the moment is gone though, and Jin’s confidence too. Things between them feel just awkward.

Kame threads his fingers through Jin’s hair and pulls him closer again to cradle him in his arms. Jin answers to his touch by sliding his hands to rest on Kame’s sides, his head next to Kame’s. His face is out of his sight, and all Kame can see as he looks on the right is the muss of his tangled locks of hair.

“You’re not stupid,” he understands to say softly. “Intelligence isn’t only about understanding maths and sciences and god knows what shit. It’s about general intelligence. You’re not that bad.”

“I am,” Jin says quietly with a dull voice. “People say I was born with a small fraction of the brain cells a person should have.”

“Well, they’re lying,” Kame insists and hugs him tightly. “You might be a bit slow sometimes, but not stupid.”

“I don’t know… I still can’t even make out whether…” Jin snarls bitterly but leaves his sentence unfinished. He seems frustrated but Kame doesn’t really know how to help him. He’s the type of person who doesn’t articulate his problems very much. It makes him useless in understanding the need others have to let things out.

Speaking from experience, he knows it’s just better to keep them hidden from others or more problems will arise.

 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,” Kame comforts him and presses a gentle kiss in the man’s ear. After a brief moment of hesitation he pulls at his earlobe with his teeth too, attempting to lighten up the mood. Jin cradles his face in his big hands and kisses him, slowly and throughout. Their bodies brush comfortably against each other as they move in waves, pushing and pulling, giving in and going for more. Kame’s spellbound.

“I think I want to be naïve right now,” Jin whispers to him quietly, his voice raspy and desperate against Kame’s parted lips. Kame can feel the sound waves softly echoing in his mouth and leans forward for more, hands settling on Jin’s hips. The man rocks them gently – he feels a bit shaky to the touch and Kame isn’t entirely sure if it’s something he already regrets or knows he’ll regret when it’s over. It worries him, but at the same time he reminds himself that they aren’t fully serious. That _he_ isn’t fully serious and can draw back from the flourishing relationship any moment he wants to.

The dates have been delightful and relaxing. It has opened his eyes a little – maybe he doesn’t mind them too much. It isn’t the end of the world – brief things are alright even if they contain more than sex. He’s glad Jin’s shown him that.

Jin’s breaths are laboured as his lips travel down from his lips. They suck gently on his jaw and move downwards, tracing over his Adam’s apple and pressing on the hollow between his collarbones. Kame lies helplessly still as Jin’s hands fumble the buttons and flies of their jeans open.

He’s pretty sure he’s about to get lucky. For what reason he doesn’t know, but it’s happening and he’s excited, having waited for it long enough. He moans lowly as he pushes Jin’s jeans to his knees and Jin groans as he fights them off. Kame worms his way to the floor from under Jin’s weight and sheds his own clothing before pulling Jin’s black V-necked shirt over his head, and pushes him down on the couch, enjoying the view of his beauty sprawled underneath him.

“Fuck,” Jin curses and finally lets Kame between his legs, draping his arms around Kame’s torso to pull him closer. “H-hn.”

Kame chuckles at the man’s adorableness and trails his hands up and down Jin’s chest before withdrawing slightly to press wet kisses down his navel. Jin’s body trembles hotly under his lips and Kame circles his arms around his hips, holding him in place as he tickles Jin where his skin darkens and the hair gets slightly curlier and firmer. Jin arches his neck, his face disappearing from view as he gasps for breath.

Well, at least the man doesn’t seem to be too small even without a full erection. Kame takes him into his hand and tugs a bit, hearing Jin wince and feeling the soft flesh swell just a bit more. He smooches at the tip first before taking it in his mouth and sucking temptingly, trying to arouse the man more.

Jin mewls and tosses his head to the other side. His fingers grip the fabric of the couch as well as he can and Kame decides to withdraw a bit when Jin’s hips start shakily rocking to meet his ministrations. He cups the man’s balls with one hand and brushes them with his thumb. Jin cries a bit and huffs, his knees closing a bit in a mostly unconscious attempt to trap Kame where he is.

Kame parts Jin’s legs firmly again and kisses at his left knee, hands brushing gently up and down his shins. Jin’s legs are starting to get damp with sweat and the man sits up, a hazy look in his eyes. Kame kisses him and feels Jin’s hands run down his back and cup his buttocks. Kame closes his eyes and presses his head to Jin’s shoulder, rocking their hips together gently. Jin’s hand somehow squirms between their bodies and takes them both into his hand, making Kame cry sharply.

Slowly he feels the heat taking over his own body. Their slick bodies press together and Kame holds onto Jin’s shoulders as he feels the man’s hand brushing his shaft firmly. Jin’s lips are dark and parted, and the inside of his mouth glistens with moisture Kame attempts to suck out of him with a whiny kiss.

Kame wails pathetically as Jin’s hand leaves him unfinished. He feels the man’s hand exploring his body, running on the outer and inner sides of his thighs before his thumbs bury themselves in his crotch, making Kame swallow and press better against Jin wantonly.

He’s hard and Jin is hard and willing. He helps Jin flip over on his knees and forces him to lean against the armrest of the couch, his arms awkwardly gripping its side as his chest drapes over the fabric and head hangs limply, looking down at the floor. Kame spits at his fingers and Jin’s anus before brushing over it with his finger for a few times, feeling the older man’s body tremble weakly, completely under his control.

_“Kame.”_

Kame doesn’t even know if Jin acknowledges what a tease he really is. He kisses at the gentle curve of the man’s naked back as he pushes a finger in and curls it softly, feeling the tight heat wrapping him. He smirks at the skin and places his free hand on Jin’s hip, keeping him firmly in place.

“Haven’t done this with a man in a while?” he asks huskily. Jin shakes his head – Kame sees the way his dampened and curling hair slides to the other side of his neck. He’s tantalizing, turned on and spread open in front of him. He pushes another finger in and Jin stutters something incoherent towards the floor, trying to lean against Kame’s hand.

He preps the man carefully while brushing his erection with his free hand. Jin’s body convulses and trembles. A small puddle of sweat gathers in the hollow of his back and Kame spreads it with his palm, gathering moisture before returning to work on Jin’s need.

He removes his fingers and hooks his arms around Jin’s body after pushing in. The man winces and throws his head back. He’s arched in a violent curve that Kame finds appealing as he moves experimentally, pulling out a bit before making his way deeper in. Jin lets out a strangled cry and looks over his shoulder, his bangs glued to his forehead in messy disarray.

Kame likes seeing him like this. He’s dirty and too incoherent to present himself in a handsome light. Now he’s just purely natural, a living and breathing human being who’s just as vulnerable and weak when it comes to sexual intercourse as anyone. He’s a gorgeous body to claim and worth the chase. His toned back makes Kame want him harder and he starts moving more fiercely. Jin whines like a girl, the octaves rising with every thrust and turning into low murmurs when he goes fast enough and hits the right spots.

It doesn’t take Kame long to reach his orgasm. It goes to the very tips of his toes and he feels himself spilling the proof of his contentment inside Jin’s heat. He removes himself from inside of the man and feels shaky and weak as he tries to caress Jin to his release. When the man finally comes, the only sound that comes out is a deep sigh before he coughs weakly and removes himself from the armrest to kiss Kame on the lips. He tastes like the sweat prickling on his face and Kame drinks the small drops, feeling tired and comfortable as Jin wraps his arms around him.

Jin’s smile is all ears as he pulls Kame down to rest over him, exposed bodies slowly starting to cool down. Kame wonders why on earth they waited for so long.

\--

They’re supposed to meet the following day. The usual thing – go out to grab some lunch, find the first interesting thing to stop by at and see how things go. Jin sounds excited on the phone – his euphoria hasn’t quite diminished and he sounds like he’s soaring high up in the clouds as he babbles about having two tickets to some concert where Yamapi’s as a background dancer. Kame’s never seen their common friend dance but Jin insists he’s brilliant and that the music is good so Kame decides he’ll give it a go and join Jin, perhaps even in the hopes of some more private bedroom games.

He’s already pulled his jacket on when he freezes on the spot, sensing something creeping behind him. He turns around helplessly, facing his walls all around him. He hesitantly removes his jacket and tiptoes to the wall in his boots, caressing it carefully.

“Anyone there?” he quietly asks, letting his eyes move upwards towards the ceiling. His hair stands on edge as he feels the walls creeping in and pulsating. He bites his lip, forcing himself to remain calm. He’s not going to have a panic attack because of this. It didn’t feel as bad before – actually, the feeling had always been quite pleasant.

It isn’t anymore. Kame feels frost filling his throat and he wraps his arms around himself. The spirits scream at him so loud Kame thinks his eardrums will break – he cries out and grabs his head as a migraine hits him full blast. He sees white spots as the words are spat at him vulgarly.

There’s cerulean everywhere. He falls down on his back and curls up, trying to relax and give into it the way he’s supposed to. It makes it easier. He empties his brain and lets it come to him as he lies on the cold floor. It comes over him like waves on the beach and for a long moment Kame isn’t able to breathe.

\--

Kame comes to his senses god-knows how many days later. His mouth is dry and he feels exhausted to the point of nausea as his upper body lies on the desk. There are stacks of papers with his scribbly handwriting all over them and Kame picks up the latest page – _Fin_. He feels relief wrecking his body and laughs exhaustedly for a while before managing to get up to get a bottle of water from the fridge. He empties it in one go and feels too full to get any solid food down yet, even though postponing eating is probably a really bad thing.

He fishes his mobile phone from his pocket and decides to check the date, just to catch up with reality. He’s surprised to find 50 missed calls and 14 voice mails impatiently waiting for him in his inbox. The list of callers includes most of his closest friends once or twice – the rest are from Jin, although those had stopped coming in two days ago. It’s been six days since he stood him up now.

“Damn it,” he mumbles weakly and sits down, placing the phone on the desk and putting the sounds on speaker as he listens to the voice mails, rubbing his swollen eyes with his weakened fingers. The pain in his wrist is becoming unbearable and he thinks he should probably tape it or something once he gets some of his energy back.

 _“Um, you’re not picking up. I guess you’re a bit late,”_ Jin’s voice greets him chirpily from the speakers. There’s a loud ruckus of people around him – he’s talking in a crowd. Oh yeah, the concert… _“I’ll just wait for you at the doors, okay? See you soon.”_

And then the messages that keep on coming. The next one always sounds more desperate and hopeless as the previous as Jin starts worrying about a possible car accident. He keeps asking him if he is alright, if something came up or if he was even on his way. Eventually he tells that the concert ended but it’s totally alright, just please call back.

Apparently, Jin’s been banging on his door and ringing the doorbell. He’s been worried sick and finally starts cursing angry spiteful remarks about how manipulative and cruel he is, not even bothering to face him after getting some. Sometimes his voice is soft and quiet, broken in a way, but sometimes it’s furious roaring he probably does a bit drunk inside the safety of his apartment or studio. There’s even one voice mail from Yamapi asking him how he’s doing and would he just please at least confront Jin because he’s really tired of watching his friend brood over the clock, mourning after him.

Then the final message. It’s simple and short, just Jin tiredly stating _“Kame, I know. We need to talk,”_ and that’s it. Kame feels awfully guilty as he dials back in panic, wondering if Jin will even pick up anymore. He knows Yamapi will and he will eventually be able to reach the man and explain the misunderstanding. It’s the first time he’s really become unaware of the days he’s spent writing – he honestly just hasn’t noticed Jin’s desperate attempts to reach him.

 _“Took you long enough,”_ Jin croaks to the phone. Kame gulps – Jin sounds too calm and too exhausted. He licks his lips and rubs his cold hands together, trying to come up with the right words to say to refrain from infuriating him.

“I was writing. I-I haven’t really told you about h-how it goes for me yet so I’m sorry this situation came up,” he stutters hysterically, combing his hair back with his fingers. It’s greasy and his scalp itches. He grimaces at himself in disgust. “I really did mean to come to the concert, this just happened and I –”

 _“Koki thought so,”_ Jin sniffs awkwardly, his voice muffled and unsure. _“The man at the café. I ran into him a few days ago, he had some street performance thing and he told me that might’ve happened.”_

“Oh. Oh good,” Kame lets out a relieved laughter, gripping his fringe in his weak and shaky grip. He closes his eyes and licks his lips again, rocking on the chair he’s sitting on. “Do you want to come over or something? Please.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Jin sniffs. _“We need to talk. I’d like to do it face to face.”_

It doesn’t sound good. Kame doesn’t know what’s wrong – he’s practically been out of it for six whole days now. He can only assume that he’s drunk water and used the toilet to even sit where he is alive and without a puddle of urine on the floor.

“I’ll open the lock so you can just come in when you get here, okay? I need a shower. I’ll make it quick. Then we’ll talk, I promise,” he swears. Jin mumbles something incoherent as an answer and cuts the call. Kame goes to unlock the door before dragging clean clothes with him to the bathroom and turning the shower on hot to warm his chilled body down. He really should try to get something down soon too.

When he comes back from the bathroom Jin is already sitting on his futon. His hair is tousled and he looks awful – there are dark bags under his eyes and all his confidence seems to have drained away. His eyes are slightly reddish, probably from exhaustion rather than crying and he pulls his white hood over his head when he sees Kame, crossing his arms too in the process.

“You look awful,” Kame mumbles, feeling guilty as he crashes down next to Jin. The man drums his fingers together and shrugs nonchalantly. His lips are pursed in the way that indicates that he has something to say but can’t get it out of his mouth.

Jin’s never been good with words. Not really. His behaviour makes Kame scared of hearing what he has to say.

“So I talked with Koki,” he starts, looking at his hands rather than at Kame. He sniffs quietly and rubs his nose, movements oddly coordinated in his anxious state of mind. “He told me about Hiragawa. Your ex.”

Kame freezes. He shakes his head dumbly and grabs Jin’s sleeve – he doesn’t want this. Koki and Jin should never be put in the same room. They’re both too over-protective and can never understand the whole ordeal with Takeo. It wasn’t what it might’ve seemed to an outsider. It had its downsides, yes, but the good things about it were way more than enough to compensate.

“Don’t pity me,” he mumbles quickly and Jin flinches, looking away completely. “Koki can make the whole thing sound bad.”

“I’m not _pitying you_ ,” Jin snaps at him finally, turning around. His eyes burn with a fire Kame is familiar with – not too familiar when it’s in Jin’s eyes, having only seen a few short glimpses of it, but way more familiar in the eyes of Hiragawa Takeo, his boyfriend since high school. “Oh fucking hell with you. He told me what your approach to _this_ is, you asshole!”

Kame goes quiet, not daring to speak. Jin is shaking out of fury, his breathing laboured and irregular. His fingers curl into fists and he fidgets restlessly beside him. Kame is reminded of his past, nights of fighting, yelling, roaring, screaming and pressuring. Takeo always knew how to get his way.

Jin isn’t Takeo, though. Instead of lashing out, he’s doing his best to contain himself, to hide inside his white hoodie that is way too big for him. Kame’s mouth is dry – he supposes he’s expected to come up with some sort of answer so that Jin doesn’t have to pull a continuous monologue, he’s supposed to explain his view of things and clarify the situation for Jin because he deserves to know.

“Say something,” Jin mumbles with a strained and annoyed voice. “I want you to _say_ something. You aren’t denying it. Damn it, deny it or admit it, whichever it is. I need to know.”

He looks like he’s about to break and crumble into small pieces. Kame puts a hand on his shoulder and feels the violent flinch. Jin won’t even look at him anymore. He can’t, Kame assumes. Too overwhelmed with emotions. The typical, lovely and innocent Jin.

“…Proper dating…” Kame starts warily, his voice threatening to fail him, “it’s just… difficult. I just don’t think I’ll fall in love like that again if at all so… it’s just impractical. I’ll be unhappy and the other person won’t get what they could with someone else if they’re stuck with me so… it’s just irritation all over.”

“S-so you weren’t serious,” Jin chokes, his faltering voice breaking. Kame doesn’t see his face from the shadows of his hood. “Alright. That’s alright. I mean, if you don’t feel anything then… it’s useless, isn’t it? You’re right, I d-don’t want that. If you feel like you can’t take me seriously then… That won’t be fine anymore. I’m glad we figured this out.”

“Are you alright?” Kame tries to ask him gently. Jin pulls away and gets up on his feet. He wipes his nose into his sleeve quickly and faces Kame with unconfident eyes, retreating fast.

“I think we should stop this. Stop seeing each other,” he mumbles and shrugs, stuffing his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. “I’ll get over you. Now I can. If I stay it’ll just be worse later so… I’m sorry. I just think we shouldn’t see each other again.”

For some reason it makes Kame want to cry. He bites his lip and stares at Jin with his eyes wide like a deer’s. He doesn’t know why it feels so bad – maybe because he had genuinely enjoyed the other man’s company and established some sort of close relationship with him. If only Jin wouldn’t have liked him as much as he did.

He nods. Jin sniffs and turns his face towards the ground again. He waves with his hand briefly before walking out. He closes the door behind him and Kame picks up his pillow quietly. He wraps his arms around it and stares ahead, trying to force his raging feelings under control.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so bad. He just doesn’t. Jin had been funny, fascinating, relaxing and not to mention an exceptionally good-looking man. He’d made him enjoy things he had been certain he’d absolutely hate. He knows he should despise himself for feeling that way around the man but he doesn’t. They had been good weeks.

Why didn’t he accept Jin? Why couldn’t he? What was seriously so fucking wrong about it? If he had liked it and Jin had liked it then… what was the problem? He didn’t have to be in love with the man yet, not at this point. Just willing to give Jin the possibility to try to make him fall in love. That had really been all that Jin had been asking for and he had just bluntly denied him.

Could he give the man a possibility? The thought makes him freeze. No, no way. Jin already got hurt at this stage – he’s right, later on the pain would just be worse. He doesn’t have the right to play with a heart like that, not when his own is so dismantled.

If Jin had only pressed on it more. Forced him to take him, giving him no choice. Maybe then he could’ve, if it hadn’t been his choice. It all came down to Jin’s stupid lack of self-esteem in the most ridiculous situations.

He catches himself feeling too much grief over losing just a good regular lay. It makes him panic and go through the reasons behind his decisions over and over again. He tries to evaluate his feelings, which is so stupid because _Jin is already gone_ yet he still can’t stop himself. It’s coming in too strongly.

He knows he doesn’t want to lose Jin.

He dashes after the man, leaving his front door open. He runs shoe-less down the stairs, his socks almost making him slip more than once. The ruckus echoes on the staircase as he passes one story after another and finally reaches the ground floor, catching the sight of Jin’s trainer disappearing out of view through the door.

He crashes against the door and it takes him awhile to realise he should _pull_ , not _push_ before he manages to rush to the street. Jin is already quite far away from the building, his head lowered as he walks through the few people on the street.

“Jin!” he yells shakily and slaps himself – not like the man could hear his peeping. “JIN! Stop, goddammit!”

The man turns around, looking startled and disbelieving. He doesn’t look even a bit happy when Kame jogs to him. He takes in a shaky breath, blinks his glossy eyes and scratches his nose absently before Kame reaches him and stops, panting and feeling sort of scared of his actions himself.

“I’m not ready for the whole boyfriend thing,” he moans, trying to hold Jin’s pained gaze as well as possible. “It’s too much, way too much. But… I can… I can try. I can try to take you seriously,” he begs and grabs the man’s wrist. He hadn’t even noticed the violent shaking of his hands. “From now on I’ll take you seriously. I promise. Please. Please.”

Jin stares at him, looking disbelieving. He shakes his head slightly and Kame’s face drops – then he realises the possible interpretation of his movement and lets out a panicky cry, pulling his wrist free from Kame’s hold.

“I. If you just. S-seriously?” he stutters with a dumb expression on his face. “You’re not just saying that? If you are, I’ll seriously punch you. I don’t care about your past, I’ll punch you. I’m stupid, I won’t know if you’re serious or not.”

“My brother Yuichiro has his wedding on the twelfth. Saturday, a week from now,” he tries to convince the man desperately. “Come with me. As my date. I’ll show you to my family, does that prove you I’m serious enough?”

“Family?” Jin peeps, looking overwhelmed. “Wow. Um. Hadn’t been expecting that this soon.”

“You don’t have to come,” Kame groans and buries his face in his hands anxiously. “I’m just offering if that’s what you want. My parents are a bit homophobic. They’re not too aggressive about it but… My brothers are better with it but… I just... Maybe it’s a bad idea.”

“I’ll come, but you’ll have to meet my family too then,” Jin insists, starting to get his usual posture back bit by bit. Kame grimaces – families aren’t really his thing. Takeo had only met his once and it had been the quietest family lunch he had ever sat through. He had never seen Takeo’s parents.

“You’re evil,” he accuses with a whine. “You’re seriously evil, Jin.”

“If you’re serious you’ll meet them,” Jin barks at him. “We’ll meet each other’s parents. And friends. No other people to fool around with, we’ll admit to having _something_ going on.”

“Don’t come up with any more conditions,” Kame frowns, eyeing Jin accusatively. “I’m warning you. This much I can agree on, but much more and you can be sure I’m turning around.”

“Take me with you then,” Jin whispers and pulls him into a tight hug. Kame melts in it – he wraps his own arms around the man and breathes in his scent from his shoulder. He’s not sure whether he had made the right choice or not but he can only assume that time will show him.

Koki’s right. It’s worth a shot. If he has any chance for it, maybe he should just go and grasp it.

Jin hustles him back inside, complaining about his pale form and the coldness of his limbs. He sits him down on the chair and raids his fridge to find something edible for him. Once he’s finished stuffing his face with food, he tapes his stressed wrist and forces him into bed, insisting they’ll go and see the doctor as soon as he wakes up to have a better look at him.

Jin’s body warmth against his is soothing. Kame knows he’ll have to address his possible feelings soon and actually unlock the limitations put into his head. Not all of them can be true after all.

Cerulean lulls him to sleep.

\--

Koki hands him a beer over the tiny couch table. Sakura barks and whines, her tail wagging as she circles her owner’s feet. Koki gives her a dental bone and ruffles her head before sitting next to Kame on the couch, raising his feet on the table. Kame leans against him and takes a swig from the bottle, enjoying the taste spreading over his tongue.

“I don’t know if I made the right thing. I just panicked,” he snarls hopelessly, throwing his head back. His body aches dully because of the strained muscles he’s had for a few days now. The more he thinks about it, the more uncertain he gets. Koki throws his arm around his shoulders encouragingly. He’s smiling a bit and Kame can tell that even if he’s stressed out of his mind, his friend is finally finding some peace.

“You liked him enough to give him a chance,” Koki reminds him. Sakura jumps on the couch with the dental bone in her mouth and lies down next to her owner, her teeth grinding against the tough material. Koki pats her gently, the good owner he is. “I think you might get something out of the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry about the wedding,” Kame grimaces, looking at his friend apologetically. “I know I promised you but he didn’t seem too convinced about me taking him seriously and I couldn’t think of another way to show him. I think he has some trust issues.”

“Your mum asked you to bring a date anyway. Don’t worry, I think I’ll find girls my type easier from the clubs than weddings,” Koki brushes him off and drinks from his own beer. “Maybe that’s why I’m still unmarried.”

“So it didn’t work out between you and Yukari-chan,” Kame winces, remembering the temperamental woman he’d met on a few occasions. Koki shakes his head and shrugs. He doesn’t seem too bothered about it.

He listens to the sounds Sakura makes on Koki’s other side and reflects back to Jin’s smiles and endless blabbering once he’s gotten started. He just doesn’t know – he wishes he did, but truthfully speaking he never was much involved with anyone on a serious level. He’s far from an expert to see how things should normally develop.

“How are the books? I heard you’re piling them up again,” Koki asks him in a lighter tone. Kame remembers the contract issue and frowns, lips pursed in annoyance. He takes a bitter sip from the bottle and groans. “…Not good then,” Koki mumbles, his curiosity sparking up. Kame shakes his head.

“No,” he confirms the man’s suspicions. “They want to put me on contract. Two books per year, a shitload of marketing and other useless crap. I don’t think I can do it, but my manager isn’t feeling too hopeful about managing to jump elsewhere because apparently I’m impractical.”

“Bullshit,” Koki cries, almost spilling his drink. Sakura winces and growls, raising her head from the bone between her paws. “You’ve had two fucking bestsellers!”

“Still,” Kame groans, the cool glass of the bottle pressed against his lips. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t see myself doing that. There has to be another way.”

His mood is low. Too much stress threatens to pile up again with the whole Jin issue and his job at line. He hasn’t dared to go home to face his hypnotizing walls in a while, wrist still hurting. His doctors are scolding him, saying he’s going to have serious problems with it at an older age, especially if he keeps on mistreating it. Kame imagines his hand amputated and feels nausea settling in his stomach. He sets down the beer and stretches nervously. He knows he’ll have to face his wall sooner than later anyway.

Not tonight, though. He’s going to sleep over at Koki’s place, helping out with Sakura and spending time with his busy friend. Koki’s practicing for some dancing contest and the auditions will be within a few weeks from now. He wants to help out as much as he can, not having much else to do.

Besides, he assumes he can always crash Jin’s condo if he wants to.

\--

The wedding comes too soon. Kame’s snappy and anxious for the whole morning, gulping down several cups of coffee but leaving breakfast at that. He puts on his dark suit, still in plastic after coming from the drycleaner, and completes the look with a light yellow shirt, golden watch and necklace. He actually digs up his hair straightener that’s been gathering dust in its box and tries to smoothen his hair, curling his fringe a little from the tips.

He grabs the neatly packaged gift from his table and dials Jin’s number, feeling stressed and panicky about the whole thing. He hopes Jin’s alarm hasn’t failed him and he’s still on some midday nap. The man’s sleeping patterns aren’t always exactly the healthiest type.

 _“I don’t know what to wear,”_ comes the immediate answer in the sound of a begging whine. Kame sighs and rubs his temples. It’s up to him then, he figures, and feels sort of cranky at Jin for making him take care of him like some helpless little puppy.

“I’ll be there in five,” he snarls and cuts the call. He slips his apartment keys and mobile phone in his pocket before dashing out of the house. He hopes to god Jin’s at least had the decency to take a shower – they might not be boyfriends, but things are bad already as they are with him having the guts to bring a man he’s involved with to his brother’s wedding under his parents’ eyes. He’d at least like Jin to have some class.

He hops into his car and drives to Jin’s condo. He rings the doorbell and listens to the ruckus from inside – Jin’s stumbling on something he assumes – and steps in when the door opens. Jin greets him with an anxious look on his face. He’s standing in his boxers, hair still slightly damp.

“You look good,” he croaks pathetically as Kame pushes ahead of him, making his way to the bedroom. Jin’s walls and ceiling are painted midnight blue with a starry sky opening up. The paint of the stars is something weird that illuminates during the night, but now with the lights on it looks dull and artificial. Jin had once explained to Kame that he had painted it when he had first moved in at the age of twenty, having some weird fascination with stars and space back then. Kame can imagine it.

“No way will you be wearing a pink shirt,” he grimaces at one of the shirts thrown on the bed. “Don’t be flamboyant right from the first meeting, will you?”

“Straight men wear pink too, it’s called _fashion_ you –”

Kame ignores Jin’s defence and eyes quickly through the pile. He picks up a baby blue shirt and examines it briefly before handing it over to Jin. “You’ve got silvery accessories, right? Where do you keep them? Get a dark suit with that, no stripes or you’ll look ridiculous.”

“Thanks for making me self-conscious,” Jin whines and starts dressing up. His movements are slightly uncoordinated and he looks pale and stressed. It’s a big thing for him, Kame knows, but it’s a big thing for him too and he doesn’t want to screw it up.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs and pecks Jin’s lips gently. “I’m just really stressed right now. I didn’t mean to snap. So where’s the jewellery?”

“That dresser, the small drawer on top right,” Jin mumbles and points at the large container and Kame walks over, wincing at the tangled mess of jewellery. He’ll have to get the man a proper jewellery kit for holding all of them or something.

He picks up a silvery earring of a kneeled woman from the drawer and chuckles amusedly. He decides to pick it just because it’ll make Jin look at least a bit less gay and more acceptable even if the earring might be a bit inappropriate to the situation, a silvery watch with golden lining and peers at the diamonds. Jin has to be richer than he’d originally assumed or it’s some whim he’d been saving for. Money could tempt his parents a little though and soften the blow so he hands it over to Jin as well.

“I can’t wear this earring to a _wedding_ , Kame!” Jin complains loudly. “It makes me look like some rude player!”

“Just wear it,” Kame snaps and clips a thin silver chain around Jin’s neck. “And we’ve got to do something to your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Jin muses with a hurt voice as Kame ushers him towards the bathroom. “You’ve never complained before! If you want me to go and cut it I will but you’ll have to say it straight first!”

“Your hair is _fine_ , just not right now,” Kame snarls. Jin takes things too personally sometimes. He takes a comb and a hair tie and puts it in a bun. Jin frowns, looking at himself from the mirror. He doesn’t look too convinced.

“You said I shouldn’t be flamboyant but now I look like some _girl_ , Kame!” he complains. “A _bun_? _Are you serious?!_ ”

Kame sprays hairspray and Jin whimpers, losing the fight. Kame knows he’s sometimes a bit too unreasonable when it comes to fashion and that people don’t always quite appreciate his choices on themselves but Jin looks good so who cares. He doesn’t look dull and boring and Kame likes to think that their attires match in some odd way.

“I don’t like this,” Jin mumbles sadly, still frowning as he examines himself from the bathroom mirror. He looks a bit horrified, fingers carefully brushing the bun at the back of his head. Kame slaps his hand off.

“We’re going. Get in the car, I don’t want to be late, you’ve already stalled us enough.”

Jin is gloomy for the whole duration of the drive. He sits on the passenger’s seat with his arms crossed and looks out of the window. Kame can see the thin line of his lips from the mirror and feels a bit bad for being too overpowering and mean to his date. He knows Jin is trying his best, it’s Kame who sets the standards too high when the man panics.

He pulls over at the parking lot of a tall apartment building where the fancy restaurant is located. Jin sniffs and opens his seatbelt but Kame presses his hand over Jin’s, feeling a nervous lump in his throat as he gets Jin’s attention.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” he sighs apologetically. “Really. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” Jin scoffs and looks away. Kame sighs and grabs the present before stepping out of the car. After Jin’s slammed his door shut he locks the doors and starts heading towards the building. Jin follows him, still gloomy. Kame has a feeling the introductions aren’t going to go too well.

“Come on,” he croaks and offers his hand at the doors. Jin frowns but takes it and lets Kame drag him in the lift where he pushes the button to the fourth floor. He brushes Jin’s hand with his thumb and keeps him close as they wait. Jin’s peering at the numbers announcing the floor.

The doors slide open and Jin lets go of his hand as they step in. He looks slightly less irritated and more curious, mumbling something about having never been here before. Kame’s seen the place only once too, having joined his family to the small dinner to try out the food while going through potential ceremony places. The restaurant’s been reserved for them for the day and some guests are already congratulating the couple.

It isn’t going to be anything too ceremonial. Yuichiro hadn’t wanted that, never been the one for spotlights and his bride had agreed. The atmosphere is relaxed and only a few tens of people have been invited, mostly family and then some friends from both sides.

“Kazuya!” Yuichiro smiles and waves him over. Kame gives Jin an encouraging look and motions for him to follow as they approach the couple. Ayame smiles at him and Kame greets them both with a short hug before handing his present to the bride with a smile. Yuichiro ruffles his hair and Kame winces, slapping his hand away.

“I styled it, don’t ruin it,” he snarls, a hint of amusement in his voice. Yuichiro hugs him tighter before turning his eyes at Jin by his side. Jin’s changing his weight from one leg to another nervously, his head slightly bowed.

“Congratulations,” he mumbles and Yuichiro smiles and shakes his hand, thanking him politely. He’s really radiant, thin eyes sparkling with joy and bewilderment. Kame knows he’s been waiting for the day anxiously, trying to perfect everything about it for the sake of his future wife.

“Akanishi Jin,” Kame introduces his date. Ayame smiles at him, holding his fiancé’s hands in her slender fingers. “He’s accompanying me today. Jin, these are my eldest brother Yuichiro and his fiancé Ayame-chan.”

“Nice to meet you, Akanishi-san,” Yuichiro greets with an acknowledging nod. Jin mutters something similar and Yuichiro smirks at Kame. Kame assumes he’s really out of it today, being so cheery it’s almost a bit creepy. He’s happy for his brother, though.

“Koji hasn’t arrived yet. Yuya and mother are talking to the band,” Yuichiro informs him and points at the far corner of the dining hall. There’s a small stand, not too high, and a violist is tuning his instrument nervously. Kame nods approvingly – it suits the place.

“I guess we’ll go and have a chat with them,” Kame smiles at the groom and bride widely, seeing more people making their way in. He recognizes Yuichiro’s high school friends and pats his shoulder. “And Ayame-chan – you look beautiful today.”

“Thank you, Kazuya,” she takes the compliment and moves slightly to make the hem swirl. Kame laughs as he waves his hand, dragging a slightly petrified and stiff Jin with him. The look on his face is unbeatable and Kame can’t resist quickly snapping a picture of it with his phone, making the man grimace.

“Don’t tease me. That guy looked just like you. I think I might mix you two up,” he whines. “It’s like you’re clones rather than brothers.”

“We aren’t,” Kame assures him with a nod as he slips his phone back in his pocket. “It’s just the first impression. I’m sure by the evening you’ll be able to list a whole lot of differences between us. Plus I’m the only one of my siblings who’s gotten his nose broken.”

“Badass,” Jin teases him nervously as they approach Kame’s parents. His mother has gotten her hair professionally curled and she’s wearing a dark red dress with short sleeves. Kame hopes she isn’t feeling too cold.

She’s the first to notice them and turn around, eyeing Jin suspiciously. Kame hears his date gulping. Her gaze isn’t too cold, though – mostly she looks a bit surprised and startled, and perhaps just a bit disappointed. Kame’s glad her reaction isn’t worse.

“Kazu,” Yuya greets him after he notices his mother waving at them. His father turns his head around too. They all look at Jin and Kame feels the man shrinking in a bit. He pats the man’s back to give him courage as they stop, Kame pulling his parents in separate greeting hugs. Yuya greets Jin with a handshake and nod. Jin’s voice is lower than usual.

“Is he your new friend, Kazuya?” his mother asks politely after nodding at Jin. Kame’s father is bluntly staring at Jin’s watch that peeks from under his sleeve.

“You told me to bring a date,” Kame tries to say confidently and pushes Jin closer to his parents, draping his arm across the man’s hips. “Mum and dad, this is Akanishi Jin. We’ve been going out somewhat lately.”

The introductions aren’t too bad. Kame’s father recognizes Jin’s name, having read a review of his exhibition from the newspaper. Jin flushes a bit red as he talks about art, trying to eye Kame for help. Yuya pats Kame’s shoulder and whispers “nice catch!” to his ear before giving him a discreet thumbs up. His brothers have been more understanding with his sexuality than his parents. Kame assumes it’s because of the more open-minded generation, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

The evening goes pretty well. There’s laughter and music, dancing and wedding cake after the vows have been given and rings secured on the new wedded couple’s fingers. Kame’s mother tries to desperately usher some unfortunate girls at them and even takes Jin away once to give him a tour of introductions to some young women in the party. Kame shakes his head as he holds his champagne glass, watching Jin nervously licking his lips as his mother introduces him to some woman with a good cleavage.

“She’s at it again, huh,” Koji mumbles as he stands next to him. Kame nods and grins a little at his older brother. Koji’s long-term girlfriend Ryoko is chatting with the bride happily, laughing and snacking on some pastries from the buffet. Kame wonders when they’re finally going to get engaged. “She can be pretty shameless.”

“I guess,” Kame agrees. “She doesn’t mean ill with it, though. She’s just… a bit old-fashioned.”

“So. This new male friend of yours,” Koji smirks at him knowingly. Kame starts feeling like a child again, always teased and forced to run around by his older brothers. He knows that smirk, it’s the one he’s been staring at for uncountable times as they’ve tried to tease him into talking about his crushes or anything. His brothers can be insistent. “How serious?”

“I don’t know,” Kame admits unsurely, looking at Jin again, seeing his mother pushing him and the girl on the dance floor. He almost chokes on his drink – his mother really _is_ ruthless. Poor Jin for agreeing to this madness. “We haven’t been seeing each other for _that_ long.”

“But you like him?” his brother insists, fishing for the juicy details. Kame nods, feeling his body tingle a little at the thought. Koji smirks teasingly and clangs their glasses together. “That’s where it starts, Ka-kun. I’m proud of you. We’ve been a bit worried.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Kame mumbles and purses his lips as he glares at his brother. He’s looking at Ryoko, though. Kame follows his gaze and smirks a little, feeling the nosy little brother inside of him awakening too.

“You should just propose to her,” he teases. “You’ve been together for long enough. How many years was it again?”

“Four,” Koji admits. He bites on his lip, contemplating about telling something. Kame pokes his side teasingly, and the man winces before backing away from him a bit. “Don’t make me spill my drink, idiot!” he shushes quietly. Kame thinks his smirk might very well reach his ears.

“Let it out,” he demands. “Did she reject you?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Koji mumbles and licks his lips nervously, glancing briefly at his girlfriend again. “It’s just that… I don’t want to announce it tonight, it’s Yuichiro’s big day. But… she’s pregnant,” he mutters and flushes pink. Kame stares and tries to comprehend the situation, looking at the radiant happy woman next to the bride again.

“You’re going to get a child?” he asks, delighted. “Oh god. I didn’t know you were… Did you plan for it?”

“In the future, yes,” his brother shrugs. “Maybe in a few years. But I can’t say I’d be unhappy that it’s now, I just… I’m going to be a father,” he gasps, looking happy and nervous at the same time. “We’re planning to finally get married soon. It’s better for the child to be born in a marriage.”

“Congratulations,” Kame squeals. He feels an odd creepy baby fever trying to sneak in his brains and fights to shake it off – it’s impossible anyway. But he couldn’t be more excited and happier for Koji. “Mum’s going to be happy. How far is the pregnancy? She isn’t really showing yet.”

“About four weeks,” Koji croaks. “Eight months to go. I’ll have to break the news to mum and dad soon. Maybe when Yuichiro comes back from the honeymoon. You’re the first one to know.”

“I can’t believe both of my older brothers are getting married,” Kame gasps. “You’re making me feel old.”

“Settle down already,” Koji laughs and pats his back. “Go and save your date from the swarm of ladies out there on the dance floor like a good boyfriend already.”

“We aren’t dating,” Kame reminds him stiffly, emptying his champagne glass. Koji shrugs, looking unconvinced.

“You will be soon enough,” he says with a certain voice. “But excuse me, I’ve got to go and keep my fiancé from drinking alcohol. Not good for the baby,” he excuses himself and walks away. Kame looks after him, wondering when they all managed to grow up.

Kame takes his brother’s advice and joins his date on the dance floor. The band is playing some joyous jazz and Jin smirks at him as he drapes his hands behind his neck and pulls him through the crowd, stealing him from the chattering girls.

“I think I might want to get married someday,” Jin sighs wonderingly, looking around with curious eyes. Kame frowns and pushes his chest slightly and the man laughs and pulls him closer. “You know, same-sex marriage is legal in some countries.”

“You’re way ahead of things,” Kame groans at Jin. “I think you’ll need to come back a few steps.”

“Just a thought,” Jin whispers in his ear teasingly. “I thought I’d put it out there.”

“I don’t think I want that,” Kame admits. “At least not now. We’ll see what time brings, okay?”

“Okay,” Jin promises and swirls him around. The wedding’s quite enjoyable, even with people’s eyes on them. He’d expected it to turn out worse, but now he’s just got a feeling that everything will be alright.

Jin’s laughter rings in his ears.

\--

The wedding drags on till late. Kame’s mother insists that Yuya, he and Jin sleep over at the family house. Kame tries to deny her request but can’t come up with a reason good enough to shake her off. Jin seems dubious about the situation but doesn’t flee. Kame thinks he should probably respect his courage more.

His mother puts a pot of water on the stove, preparing to serve tea like a good host should. His father has a conversation with Jin – they seem to get along surprisingly well, and Kame’s feeling a little hopeful. At least he seems to appreciate Jin as a person if not as Kame’s possible lifetime partner.

“Yuya, you can take the guest room with the wide bed,” his mother talks to them. “Kazuya, I’ll get futons to your and Yuya’s old room for you and your friend to sleep on.”

Kame’s not surprised. His mother is always subtle about her requests. Kame doesn’t know what she’s thinking though – that he’d sleep with a man under his parents’ roof? He thinks he’s been brought up better to do that, especially since his sexuality still doesn’t sit well with the family. He’ll keep his private life at his own apartment.

“Mum, don’t be ridiculous,” Yuya snarls though, not quite as fine with their mother’s unreasonable behaviour. “Kazuya and his date can share the bed. He’s finally seeing someone again and the guy doesn’t seem to be so bad, can’t you just let them be?”

“Yuya,” she snaps quietly. Kame glances over his shoulder – his father and Jin don’t seem to have noticed the argument as his father keeps pulling Jin to the living room, for whatever reason that is. Kame figures they’ll be fine alone, at least until this can get sorted out.

“You can’t make Kazuya heterosexual so maybe you should just finally try to get over it before you do more damage,” Yuya snarls, exposing his teeth. Kame’s never really seen any of his brothers standing up for him before. It makes him feel awkward. “For god’s sake, you’ve got three boys who like women, isn’t that enough? It’s not Kazuya’s fault, he’s not having it easy because of it!”

“Yuya, stop it,” Kame stops his younger brother, not wanting to hear more of it. His mother looks hurt and that’s not what Kame wants either – he loves his mother. “Don’t talk like that to mum.”

“Thank you, Kazuya,” his mother mumbles. Kame sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He feels stressed out again and can’t wait to get Jin out of the house. It’s much easier when he can pretend like his sexuality doesn’t exist at all.

“I’ll be fine with any sleeping arrangements,” he swallows bitterly. “It’s just sleeping, it doesn’t matter. I sleep on the futon at home all the time, I don’t mind it. Jin isn’t too much of an elite to mind either.”

“Kazuya.”

He turns around, flinching at his mother’s voice. Yuya’s looking from their mother to Kame and back, clearly upset. Their mother bites her lip, contemplating. Kame just wants to leave the conversation already, but doesn’t dare to defy their mother.

“…I’m sorry,” she sighs and Kame nods dumbly, not entirely sure what she’s apologizing for. She motions for him to come closer and Kame does, feeling her arms wrap around him. She strokes her fingers through his hair soothingly and kisses his forehead. Kame lets her, enjoying the faint fragrance of her perfume.

“I’m proud of you,” she finally says as she withdraws, still holding onto his shoulders to keep him at arm length. “You know I’m proud of you, Kazuya. Don’t you?”

Kame feels tears swelling in his eyes. He presses his lips tightly together and tries to keep his breathing calm and deep. Normally he’d probably cry – he’s always been emotional like that and the family home makes him feel somehow safe. But he holds the tears because Jin is in the living room and he doesn’t need to see him in that state. There’d be too much to explain.

“I know, mum,” he answers quietly with a thick voice. She nods and pinches his cheek, choking back tears too.

“You can have the bed,” she sighs, strained and tired but determined. “…Just make sure you’re happy, alright? Don’t let him treat you wrongly. He seems like a good man.”

“He is,” Kame agrees. Jin is a good man – he’s probably something many people wish for but never come across. He’s annoyingly self-conscious, at times perhaps a bit too childish for his age and just _frustratingly_ all over the place, but his heart is made of gold and he’s as loyal as they can get, Kame thinks. “I’ll go and make sure dad doesn’t scare him out of here,” he mumbles and his mother lets go of his shoulders, nodding. Yuya accompanies him, notably calmer too now.

“You’re her favourite,” his younger brother tells him quietly. “That’s why it’s so hard for her. You were always her favourite.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kame shakes his head and ruffles Yuya’s hair affectionately, pulling him close. He’s missed home.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were an ugly kid,” Jin’s voice greets him merrily as they step in the living room. He’s sitting on a pillow on the floor next to his father, family albums spread out on the floor in their leather covers. Kame feels his face flushing scarlet. Yuya laughs and pats his back, proclaiming that he likes Jin’s guts for saying something like that straight to Kame’s face with such a happy look on his face.

“Well he looks much better now,” Jin insists as Kame sits down next to him, eyeing the old photographs from his school years suspiciously. Normally he avoids them – there’s nothing good to look back to. They were probably the unhappiest years of his life. “It’s like some metamorphosis.”

“Kazuya used to love baseball,” his father blabbers happily and pulls out another album. “He could’ve been an award-winning pitcher, ask anyone. It’s such a shame he dropped it. You had some talent in you, son.”

Jin takes the photo book curiously and Kame falls silent. He looks at the photos, feeling nausea slowly creeping in. He sees his old bat and signed glove and a childish grin. The photos start from him holding a baseball in his hand at the age of five and are put in time order until his high school years, hitting a homerun. Kame still remembers the moment, the overwhelming euphoria.

“It was seriously just a matter of time until some big guy would’ve come knocking on our door to recruit him,” his father explains enthusiastically. He’s a sports freak – since childhood Kame and his brothers have been pushed to every sports available to find “their thing”. Yuya still plays baseball. He’s good in Kame’s opinion, but somehow in family meetings the talk always turns to his glamorous baseball years. It makes Kame hate the whole thing even more.

“Eh? Why did you quit playing?” Jin asks him with a surprised tone. Kame flinches. Jin’s completely oblivious to the nasty nagging the whole topic has on him and he doesn’t feel too happy to explain it. Not with the presence of his family at least – Kame’s sure they always sensed that something was wrong with the way he just suddenly one day walked home, telling his parents anxiously that he’s going to stop playing and refusing to go to practice or games ever since. They pestered him about it for a few years before they let it go, figuring if he hadn’t opened his mouth about it at that point, he never would.

“Too much fame too soon, probably,” his father shrugs, taking the album from Jin and looking at the pictures happily. “He was different back then, always avoiding the spotlight. I guess he’s still like that. Son, you could get a lot further with your writing if you’d take some more credit for your work,” he scolds him and Kame grimaces. “Kazuya’s a tad bit shy.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Jin admits as they skim through the pictures, laughing and telling little stories about Kame’s childhood. There’s him learning how to drive a bike without training wheels, singing in a choir during secondary school and holding his first published book on the release day, grinning widely and flashing a peace sign. They’re a bit better memories.

Their mother saves him soon enough by inviting them for tea before going to bed. She doesn’t talk much as she studies Jin calculatingly. They talk about the wedding and who had the prettiest dresses, small little chitchat with no point at all.

When they crawl to bed and Jin hugs his body close in the darkness, Kame feels melancholic. Jin’s fingers brush the exposed skin of his lower back absently. He’s lost in thought, not looking at Kame. It doesn’t matter.

“I was played with all the way through secondary school,” Jin talks quietly, his voice dull and heavy. “I was just the hot older guy. No one really liked me, not actually. No one thought I was good for anything but dating. I guess it made people cool to date me and have sex with me. I know it’s stupid to have sex at that age, don’t even say it,” he grumbles and tightens his hold of Kame. “It just… Everyone just used me all the time. I never saw through them.”

It explains many weird situations in their past, Kame notes and pecks Jin’s lips lightly. His chest feels tight. He can see Jin as the uncertain kid during his secondary school years. He can see him falling in love with people showing him affection and having his heart broken over and over again, just for a bit of mean fun.

“I was bullied,” Kame confesses himself. “Always a little but it got out of hands in high school after the word that I was gay got out. Some team members attacked me in the shower rooms. They… did some nasty stuff. Not too far but… pretty far,” he gulps and buries his face in Jin’s neck. “So I quit baseball. Everyone rejected me.”

“I wish it wouldn’t have been that,” Jin sniffs. He buries his face in Kame’s hair and Kame suspects he’s crying. Something feels a bit wet against his scalp.

“Me too,” he answers and strokes Jin’s back soothingly. “I really do.”

\--

Watanabe calls him, asking for an update of his feelings towards the potential contract with the publishing company. Kame grimaces as he sits on his desk and stares at his cerulean walls. He bites his lip and swirls the wine in his glass anxiously.

“I don’t want it. How’s it going with other publishers?” he gulps, smelling at the fruity aroma of the dark red liquid.

 _“Just as I thought it would,”_ Watanabe lets out a heavy exhale and Kame can sense his stressing. _“Kamenashi, I think you should sign the contract. It’s the best you can get.”_

“I can’t write like that,” Kame admits his suspicions with an upset voice. He stares at the thick files containing handwritten stories. He pulls the latest on his lap and skims through it sadly, wondering if it’ll ever get printed at all. “It’s impossible.”

 _“It needs to be renewed in five years,”_ Watanabe reminds him. _“After that the situation could be different. But as a short-term solution, I think you should take it or it might very well be the end of your career.”_

It’s not what he wants to hear. Five years means ten books and the whole pressing situation is successfully sucking out his willingness to even write anymore. His touch with literature has felt a bit off lately as well – it was much easier back in the days when Takeo had been the centre of his attention, when he had sat him down and given him papers and a pen, telling him to just keep writing. Takeo had loved it. Literature and Kame’s works. He’d shown him the world of fiction and inspired him to pursue it.

He doesn’t really want to let go. After Takeo’s death it’s been like satisfying his final wish and showing the respect he has for the man. His hands start shaking as he thinks about it, thinks of how things had been back then near the end – he chokes back a sob and covers his eyes, tears swelling in his eyes.

 _“Kamenashi-san? Are you alright?”_ Watanabe’s voice questions him gently. Kame gasps for air and tries to blink the tears away. He knows it’s something he’ll regret forever and he can’t change it now, not anymore. He wishes they would’ve been given a bit more time.

“I’ll think about it,” he promises with a strained voice. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

 _“Call me,”_ Watanabe requests softly. Kame sniffs and mumbles something agreeing before he cuts the call and buries his face in his hands. The room feels suffocating now. Cerulean is the colour of grief, one he doesn’t know how to overcome. He lets out a shaky sob as he looks at them, unable to figure out what to do next.

He takes a shower to calm himself down and keep any stupid actions at bay. Afterwards he calls Jin, begging him to come and _shut his fucking walls up_ , because he’s way too tired and scared to look at them anymore.

Jin forces him to come over to his studio where they drink instant coffee quietly and talk about possible decorations. It’s not the first time Kame feels like he’s taking a huge leap into something unknown.

\--

Jin’s got a ladder standing against Kame’s wall. Kame fidgets nervously with his feet down on the ground and looks up at the man with his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a palette of paints in his hands. He isn’t sure if it’s such a great idea.

“I’ve always had my walls plain,” he mumbles anxiously as he watches Jin spreading paint with his brush over the rough material of the wall. Almost fantasy-likely shaped brown branches are slowly growing form one of the upper corners of his wall. Jin’s very careful with his work and the wood looks alive as Kame examines it from the ground. “What if I hate them?”

“At the danger of hurting my feelings, you can always get cerulean paint and colour them up,” Jin answers him, his brush still working on the wall. “I’ll make them so you’ll love them, don’t worry too much.”

“You’re messing with my walls, of course I’m worried,” Kame groans and buries his face in his hands. He feels a bit helpless. It’s a process of moving on and he’s determined to survive through it, but it isn’t exactly easy.

“Trust me. Go do something,” Jin mumbles and looks down at him. His lips are pursed and brow furrowed and he looks snappy and annoyed. He swipes more paint from the palette to his brush and makes one branch curl lightly at the end.

“I don’t know,” Kame mumbles as he lies down on the floor, his neck starting to ache from the constant arch backwards. “I think I like watching you paint. And I want to be here for it. I’m sorry for wasting your paints and time on this, I know you should be planning your exhibition,” he sighs apologetically and drums his fingers on his stomach. Jin chuckles from high up and starts painting cherry blossoms with a delicate pink colour.

Jin’s passionate about painting, Kame can tell. First he paints the bases for everything and Kame looks at the simple but plain paintings of cherry tree branches in their beautiful glory. Afterwards he climbs down to wash his brushes and soon climbs back with smaller ones to do decorations. The night starts falling and Kame turns the ceiling lamp on but Jin doesn’t stop. Slowly but surely the flower petals look soft to touch and branches real enough to carry him would he attempt to climb on them.

They’re beautiful. His step to the unknown blossoms on his walls and he smiles tiredly as he peers at them from the floor. Suddenly his room is much less sad and a lot fuller of love and life. It makes Kame appreciate Jin’s output to death. He acknowledges that he’s fortunate to come across him and have him pursue him so passionately even though he can’t promise him anything. He’s a man to whom a chance is enough as long as it’s genuine.

The metal ladder creak as Jin carefully comes down, holding on dearly to his brushes. Kame gets up from the floor and smiles at him gratefully, pulling him close for a well-earned kiss. A wet brush slides over Kame’s cheek and makes him shiver. He frowns and withdraws, trying to wipe the light brown substance off. He laughs as Jin stares at him dumbly.

“Oops,” he chuckles and withdraws from Jin and his brushes amusedly. “My bad. I’ll have to learn to be careful with you. I’ll go and wash this off.”

“Wait!” Jin suddenly exclaims and grabs his wrist with his brush hand. Kame stares at him confusedly – Jin looks really desperate and out of it all of a sudden. Kame can see that he’s _thinking_ but doesn’t know about what. He waits patiently for the man to snap out of it.

“…Can I?” Jin asks suddenly quietly. “Just. Just stay still, okay? Stay still for a while, I think I need to try out something.”

“Huh?” Kame asks, surprised. Then he feels something wet slide down his cheek and he frowns, shaken up by the weird sensation. Jin looks visibly excited about something and looks like he’s experiencing some sort of enlightening thought as he smears paint over Kame’s skin and colours him. Kame’s scared he’s going to get paint in his eyes or that it’s toxic as Jin brushes different shades of pink on his lips, his face close as he works carefully to perfect what he’s doing.

“Take your shirt off,” Jin demands as he removes his ponytail and ties Kame’s hair up messily, most of his hair falling out straightaway. Kame feels him pull him next to his desk where he sets his palette and obeys Jin awkwardly, starting to unbutton his shirt. It slides off his shoulders just as Jin finishes up with his neck and starts moving downwards. Kame feels awfully self-conscious.

His first guess would be to blame it on some weird kink Jin has – who knows what an artist fantasizes about, and Jin’s never really approached him with any oddities yet. But something in the look on his face argues against it – he’s serious. Not in the dead serious kind of way but in the dedicated one. He looks like the entire world is unravelling around him.

Kame grows quite fond of the look. The paint dries slowly on his skin. It’s cold and he feels his hair standing at the edge. It’s cold, given that it’s nearing Christmas quickly and he can detect a faint rain hitting on his window at the other side of the apartment.

Jin slides his homey and baggy aureolin trousers off and whisks them somewhere as he starts painting Kame’s legs. Kame’s surprised to see that he isn’t actually doing anything particularly special or flashy – it’s more like he’s painting Kame’s skin as it is. The brush is large and so are the strokes so even though the colour matches his skin, darker where some shadows fall, he starts looking like a living and walking painting.

“Can I paint over your boxers? I’ll buy you a new pack”, Jin promises and Kame nods dumbly, feeling the brush spreading black over them as soon as Jin gets permission. Once Jin is finished he walks all the way to the other end of the room to examine his work. Kame fidgets nervously, not quite sure how to stand.

“Turn around? Please?” Jin requests and Kame does as he’s asked, showing Jin his painted back. He feels awkward being examined like that, but he doesn’t want to disturb Jin’s creative process. He’s smiling as he makes his way back, all toothy grin and happy look on his face.

“I figured it out. My exhibition, I figured it out,” he gasps giddily, eyes sparkling. Kame tilts his head. He isn’t so sure what’s so great about it, but then again arts never were his thing.

“So um. What?” he asks. He wonders about the hell he’ll have to go through to get the paint off his skin and starts worrying if it’s even the sort that _comes off_ – he hadn’t asked Jin and, well, Jin isn’t always one off the most thoughtful people. “What about it?”

“What completes it. Makes it _it_ , makes it special, makes it contemporary, I _know it_!” he exclaims and throws his paints and the palette to Kame’s kitchen sink. He laughs and it echoes joyously from Kame’s walls. Kame can’t resist chuckling at Jin’s sudden carefree mood. He thinks he might love it.

“What?”

“ _People_ , you dumbass!” Jin laughs at him like _he’d_ be the stupid one. “You’re a painting now. A human painting. I’ll paint models and make them wander around the exhibition. It’s perfect. It makes a statement, it’s bold, it’s just… I finally figured it out,” he grins. Kame frowns, starting to hesitate a bit.

“You’re not planning to leave me like this, are you?” he snarls uneasily and Jin blinks. Then he curses and grabs his paint bottles to peer at their labels. He seems a bit panicky.

Kame makes a run for the shower. It takes them the rest of the night to get the paint off, and Kame’s skin feels raw and peeled afterwards.

\--

Jin’s at a meeting with the gallery owner, negotiating about the upcoming exhibition. Kame on the other hand sits at a nearby café with Yamapi, eating strawberry cake and drinking latte. It’s nice catching up with him – apparently he’s been busy touring Japan as a background dancer to some bigger artist, going as far as to Hokkaido. Yamapi tells him stories about snow and cold and Kame laughs, honestly thinking Yamapi is overreacting. Yamapi claims that he’s more of a warm weather lover like Jin and gets side-tracked enough to tell him stories about their visits to Hawaii some years back.

“I’ve got a question for you,” Kame finally opens his mind towards the end of the meal while Yamapi’s scraping off the last crumbs from his plate. Yamapi raises his gaze curiously as he puts his spoon in his mouth and sucks it clean.

“What?”

“What is Jin like in relationships?” Kame gets the courage to ask. Yamapi muses at him, looking smug and happy. Kame gulps – he knows Yamapi and Jin are alike, showing their feelings easily to their friends, but it’s still a bit awkward to confess about his slowly forming plans to _him_. He thinks it’s better to know beforehand, though.

“You’re the one who’s been dating him, shouldn’t you be the expert?” he chuckles at him teasingly and leans over the table. Kame shrugs. They haven’t really gone to the whole “boyfriends” thing, so it doesn’t really count. Not the same way.

“How does he treat people he _really_ dates?” he presses and wipes his mouth with his napkin. He feels his appetite disappearing and decides to leave his coffee unfinished as he waits for Yamapi to hopefully answer his questions. Yamapi shrugs, looking thoughtful. Kame wonders if he even knows any better than him.

“In a way he’s like an annoying puppy,” Yamapi nods, playing with a crumb on his plate with his spoon. “Following them around and trying to awaken their affectionate sides to make them pet him and make him feel important and loved. He’s the sort of person who’ll date proudly. Because… well… Jin doesn’t date if he can’t see himself spending the rest of his life with the person,” Yamapi shrugs. “It’s not an engagement or anything. It’s just that there’s a chance and he’s going to do his best to see if it’ll take him there.”

“Does he… I mean… How does he take time apart?” Kame asks anxiously, gripping the fabric of his jeans over his knee in his fist. “Other people, fights, all the bad stuff.”

“He can be a bit possessive,” Yamapi admits and Kame licks his lips anxiously. “I think the worst you can do to offend him is cheat on him. But he’s cool with close friends and everything as long as he feels important too. He can get a bit sharp-tongued in fights but mostly he flees rather than attacks. He’s a bit of a coward, even if he acts tough.”

“Hmm,” Kame nods, looking out of the window thoughtfully. Yamapi senses his uncertainness and chuckles awkwardly from the other end of the table.

“Then again… isn’t everyone like that?” he asks gently. “Everyone who’s really serious about you anyway.”

It makes Kame calm down a bit. He smiles at Yamapi a bit absently and thanks him.

He has a feeling that Yamapi’s for Jin what Koki is for him. He’s good with words and support and cares to the point of fighting for his friend. Kame wonders what problems they’ve come through together. He knows they’ve known each other since nursery, so it has to be a lot.

He’s glad Jin’s had a shoulder to lean on through the bad times. It’s a reason good enough to hold respect for Yamapi.

“He really likes you, you know,” Yamapi mumbles, trying to say it like just some sudden meaningless thing even though they both know very well he means more with it. “I think he’s surprised himself too.”

Kame smiles and thinks he might really have to consider taking the final leap to the unknown. He just hopes Jin will be waiting with his arms wide open to catch him as he falls.

\--

It’s nearly Christmas. The air outside is cold and Kame zips up his winter coat and pulls his woollen mittens on as he gets prepared to leave the cosy warmth of his apartment. The air feels heavy today and there are dark clouds soaring up in the sky. The wind howls outside and Kame opens his front door clumsily with his mittens, surprised to see Koki standing outside, waiting for him.

“Yo,” he greets him. He isn’t smiling, isn’t forcing Kame to smile because of some stupid social norms. He just closes the door behind an appalled Kame and checks that the door is locked before he throws an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

“I’ll drive you,” he offers as they start making their way down the stairs. “Then we’ll go to that Yamapi’s pre-Christmas party, right? You wouldn’t miss it. Jin will be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Kame confirms and leans against Koki’s support. He wonders how Koki had figured out his plans, but finally assumes that maybe the man really just knows him well enough.

They get into Koki’s van. When Koki starts driving Kame turns the radio on. It plays Christmas carols quietly and Kame chuckles, figuring that Koki’s the type to have his radio tuned to a channel that starts the celebrations weeks early. It’s quite calming though, which is something he’s grateful for.

“Are you alright?” Koki asks him after a brief stop at a flower shop. Kame’s holding a beautiful bouquet of blue flowers in his hands. He strokes the petals quietly and shrugs. Even years from the incident, he still isn’t quite sure.

“Better,” he slowly tries to articulate his feelings. He sighs deeply and looks up from the flowers and ahead on the streets. There’s a hollow pit in his stomach that aches, but the hurt is slightly milder now. He has people waiting for him, even one sitting right by his side. He figures things could be much worse.

“There are just so many regrets,” he decides to continue. Koki keeps silent, knowing he needs time to give words to his thoughts – he’s good at writing books, but when it comes to talking about something personal he can prove to be absolutely useless. “I didn’t want him to die thinking I hated him. I can never take that back.”

He looks down a little. Koki fishes a packet of tissues from his pocket and tosses it to him – prepared, as expected. Kame doesn’t take one. He doesn’t feel like he needs it. At least not yet. But he appreciates the gesture.

“I know you don’t really like him,” Kame sighs and looks out of the window, unable to face his friend. “But it wasn’t really always that bad.”

“He beat you up,” Koki snarls, unable to hide his still overwhelming emotions about the matter from his voice. “Nothing excuses that.”

Kame recalls the event. Things between them had been stressed for months by that point – Takeo didn’t appreciate his developing friendship with Koki one bit. He’d been jealous and possessive, always controlling everything Kame did. Before it had been easier, back when he had been the only one to accept Kame as he was. Back in the days when he could make him fall in love with his words and acceptance, be the one and only for him.

Kame doesn’t know where he’d be without the man. That’s why it’s alright that he’d once just lost it under the pressure. One hit and then it had gotten out of hands and he’d been down on the floor, screaming hysterically and fighting back, finally growing some spine. Koki had just happened to stop by that day. He’d heard the noises and searched for the extra key for five minutes before finding it and coming in to join the brawl. He’d thrown Kame in the bathroom to protect him and fought Takeo alone. It’d been an awful evening.

He had left with Koki that evening. They hadn’t even packed his belongings or anything, just taken off. Takeo had called him desperately and begged for forgiveness. Koki hadn’t liked it one bit and even though Kame really would’ve wanted to give him at least one more chance, he’d let Koki take care of him and taken his advice to take more time to think about it.

Takeo had gotten into a car accident a few days after that. He’d died at the hospital and that had been it. Kame knows that maybe after a few more days he would’ve returned the man’s calls and given him that chance – the man really did love him. He’s sure they could’ve worked it out if he would’ve just explained the whole thing to Takeo better and got him to listen to him.

“He gave me a lot,” Kame finally talks. His mouth feels dry and his body, weak and tired. “You just saw us at our worst so you don’t understand. But he was the first one to accept me as I am, and for a long time the only one too. He gave me confidence in myself. I’d be nothing without him,” he defends his former lover and sniffs quietly.

“He pretty much told you how to walk and talk and what to do,” Koki mumbles tiredly, turning on a sand road. “I like you better now. I think this is you. The real you.”

“I still loved him,” Kame insists and tightens his grip of the flowers anxiously. “I guess love is something only the two people involved understand.”

“True that,” Koki nods as he pulls over and opens his seatbelt with a click. “Do you want me to come with you or will I wait here?”

“I want to go alone,” Kame smiles at him tiredly. “…Today… is different.”

Koki nods understandingly. Kame smiles at him gently before he takes off and makes his way to the cemetery. The air is damp and it makes it even chillier, and the wind ruffles up his hair. He feels his teeth clattering as he lays the flowers on the familiar grave and puts a rock over them to keep them in place. They start looking worn and cold in the weather. It’s a bit sad. He wishes it would’ve been a more beautiful day.

He stays for a good fifteen minutes in the cold. He doesn’t really talk, just stands and pays his condolences in the freezing weather. He’s determined about it this time – this time he isn’t here to hold onto the man beyond the grave. But he needs to pay his final visit.

When he finally returns to the car, Koki looks worried. He turns the heating of Kame’s seat up and squeezes his knee comfortingly. Kame sniffs and blows his nose, cheeks burning from the cold.

“Let’s go to the party,” Kame suggests softly and smiles at Koki. The man nods and starts the car again, backing away and heading back towards the paved roads to get to the city. The Christmas carols are still playing and Kame feels oddly calm and alright. He thinks he’s ready.

“I never thought I’d live on,” he tells Koki quietly. The man nods in acknowledgement. “I wonder what will happen.”

“Better things, I hope,” Koki answers, smiling at Kame tenderly. “You’ve got people who care about you now.”

That, if anything, makes Kame really want to cry.

\--

Kame hugs Yamapi as the man opens the door and welcomes them. The apartment is decorated with all kinds of silly Christmas things in red, gold, green and white and it really puts Kame in the Christmas mood. He introduces Koki before they make their way further in. Yamapi encourages them to go and raid the buffet on the table and Kame laughs at the requests. He jumps a little as arms wrap themselves around him from behind and he turns his head around, seeing Jin grinning at him childishly.

“I missed you,” the man chimes happily and Kame ruffles his hair. Koki disappears somewhere where the buffet is and Yamapi leaves them alone after patting his friend’s back a few times. Kame chuckles, turning around in Jin’s hold and kissing him.

“Can I ask for something?” Jin mumbles sheepishly. “It’s sort of a request.”

“Shoot me,” Kame encourages him. Jin looks nervous but happy, perhaps a little tipsy and touchy but that isn’t really a bad thing. He bites his lip, prolonging his revelation and increasing Kame’s interest until Kame shoves him lightly. “Come on, don’t be an ass!”

“I thought that maybe you’d want to be one of my models,” Jin asks him and withdraws enough to clap his hands together and bow pleadingly. “Just for five days! You’ll get a pay of course and everything but I just… I went through the models and picked them but I just feel like it won’t be complete without you. I just... I know this is a really weird request,” he laughs nervously and winces. “But it just… because the whole idea was born on you so I just… I can’t shake it off.”

Kame thinks about it. He thinks about spending five days stuck in a gallery and grimaces a bit. Then again, he’s slowly starting to have some financial problems. He’s only got some weeks to either bow down to the publisher’s contract or figure out his next move.

“The other people are really chill,” Jin tries to convince him. “Of course you can talk with them as much as you want to and I’ll try to be there as much as I can but just…”

“I’ll do it,” Kame promises, surprising himself too. Jin stares at him blankly, his words not quite sinking in. He feels pretty good about the decision, though. It feels like the start of something.

He has a feeling his whole world is about to turn around and enter another phase. Maybe it’ll be happier. It sure feels sunnier and freer, something he’s looking forward to. He grins at Jin and threads his fingers through the man’s hair, rising on his toes to press another soft kiss on his plump lips.

“Date me,” he gasps and Jin stumbles a few steps back. Kame laughs as he follows him, holding onto the hems of his cardigan. “I’m serious. Date me. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jin looks so startled Kame’s a bit scared he’ll start crying. He doesn’t, though, no – after a moment of dumb surprise he grins widely and wraps his arms around Kame, pulling him in a painfully tight hug. Kame laughs with his lips pressed against the man’s neck. He likes Jin’s strong arms.

They spend the party a little in their own world. Two cute girls tease them about it but it’s all kind. Kame remembers them from the karaoke session ages ago but they introduce themselves again, the other one carrying a teddy bear in her arm. They pinch at Jin’s cheeks and giggle, talking something about donuts and Kame has no idea what they’re saying but he gets a bit suspicious as Jin’s cheeks flare up.

“What’s so special about donuts?” he asks confusedly as the girls disappear. Jin coughs and leaves him as he goes to get another drink.

Kame thinks he maybe should embarrass Jin more in the bedroom just to get that particular look on his face and starts planning their get-together night activities.

\--

“You were photographing me back then, weren’t you? At the beach,” Kame asks Jin with an amused voice. Jin raises his hands, proclaims himself guilty and grins widely. “Thought so,” Kame nods, thinking back to the day. “That’s why you acted so weird when I ran into you.”

“I was afraid you’d check my camera and make me delete the pictures,” Jin laughs. People look at them – Jin’s new exhibition is bold with nudist pictures and painted people walking around. Kame likes eavesdropping the arts elites’ conversations and hearing good and bad criticism about his boyfriend’s works and Jin often bullies him into filling him in on the latest when he stops by.

He’s enjoying it more than he thought he would. It’s January and he’s walking in public wearing only his boxers and his skin is painted all over, but there’s something exciting about it. His family had dropped by to have a look at him too the other day – his father had been a bit worked-up but they’d congratulated him anyway.

“I might have,” Kame admits with a smile. Jin glances at his watch – he’s got a meeting with a potential buyer of one of his works in a short while. Kame shoves his shoulder gently, urging him to get going. “I’ll be fine. Walk around and get weird looks, right? I’ll go and talk with Takizawa or something.”

“I’ll be back in a while,” Jin promises before he skips off, still as ill-mannered as ever. Kame chuckles and looks after him before someone taps his shoulder and he turns around, prepared to answer possible questions about the exhibition like he’s trained to.

“May I help you?” he asks politely and bows his head. The person is a woman – she looks sharp and alert and absolutely excited for some reason. She gives him a card in his hand and Kame peers at it in confusion.

“Nakao Mari,” she introduces herself with a brisk handshake. “I’m a talent-hunter in a modelling agency, and I thought I should ask you if you would be interested in working in the business.”

Kame blinks, confused. He peers at the card with a phone number and gulps. He’s a bit too startled to think properly – he hasn’t thought about anything really, his future seems hopelessly and utterly hazy to him apart from Jin’s presence.

“In case you’re interested, give me a call and we’ll see if we can put you on our list,” she suggests helpfully. “I think you could do well.”

She walks away and Kame squeezes the business card in his hand dumbly. And then he really thinks about it. He’s only got a few days to decide about the publisher’s contract anyway.

On his break Kame gives Watanabe a call. He decides to go with the whim – he’ll find his way through, if not with this thing then with something else. He wants to start seeing past his cerulean walls. He yearns to reach up at the cherry tree branches, see and discover new things to colour his life. The past has to go, and the publisher’s deal had never appealed him anyway.

Later at Jin’s studio he tells the man the news and wails and screams with him excitedly, jumping around the place and fooling on the couch, sharing heat and joy. Things feel more at place than they have maybe ever been.

The old painting with the cyan sea hangs on the wall, a reminder of the start. Kame thinks he finally understands the brightness that used to be an eyesore.


End file.
